Black Wings
by Aisaki Sumi
Summary: COMPLETED They were two people occupying the opposite ends of a spectrum. They were so different that their difference became frivolous. If she was red, he was blue, and their love was yellow -- together they would make all the colors in the world. SxS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Do I look like I'm rich enough to own CCS?

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

Summary: Syaoran is the leader of the school gang at Tomoeda heights, attractive yet untamed. His 18th birthday is coming up, and his guys decide to put an end to his non-existing love life by giving him the greatest gift of all… a girl. S&S

**Chapter One **

"I say the blonde one," argued a navy haired boy in his late teens, his eyes focused on the photo of a very attractive girl.

"Psh, she's too average and a bit slutty. Syaoran's gonna kill us if we get him that girl. Remember what he said about no strippers for his birthday?" the boy beside him scolded as he tossed that picture into the garbage can to demonstrate his point. He shoved another picture into his friend's hands. "I say the violet haired one. She's elegant and pretty and really classy too."

"Too classy, you mean, and don't even think about giving Tomoyo-chan to Syaoran! I had my eye on her first!" Eriol pushed his friend aside, grabbed onto the picture and held it close to his heart. "Don't even think about touching her, Hiro!" The comment was followed by a death glare.

"Possessive bastard," growled Hiro sulkily as he glared at Eriol, backing away nonetheless.

"Only a few have the privilege to experience my possessiveness you know," Eriol shot back, smirking at the sullen expression that swept across Hiro's face.

"Who would want to be possessed by you anyway… unless that person is insane or mentally challenged?" Hiro shuddered at the thought of anyone wanting to be possessed by Eriol. He would pity the person greatly and send her his best regards and wishes.

"Oh shut up!" Eriol snapped, giving Hiro a dangerous glare which translated to: shut up right now before you suffer a fate worse than death. "I've got no time to argue with you. Syaoran's birthday is coming up really soon, and we gotta pick out the perfect girl for him."

"Yah I know… but you know he shows no interest in girls or relationships… it's either because he's asexual, or he's just gay." Hiro put a hand under his chin, looking thoughtful as he drew out the conclusion.

"Don't be absurd! Syaoran is NOT gay, nor is he asexual… he just hasn't found the right person yet…" Eriol's sentence trailed off, revealing the underlying uncertainty in his voice. Hiro had a good point there, regardless of how idiotic his approach was. Syaoran had everything: good looks, an outgoing personality, and money. He was every girl in Tomoeda Heights' Prince Charming, but he was strangely cold to girls, and strayed away from them as much as possible. It was as if they were infectious beings or something… But nonetheless, Eriol wasn't about to give up. He was determined that as his friend turned 18, his non-existent love life would come to an end as well.

"Hey how about Meiling? She knows Syaoran and Syaoran knows her. It's perfect!" Hiro exclaimed, thrusting a finger into the air as his eyes sparkled. There were literally some glistening stars in his dark green eyes.

"You're joking, right?" Eriol groaned. "Syaoran hates that girl, and if she wasn't his cousin who lived under the same roof as him for so many years, he would've kicked her out already." Shaking his head at the hopeless Hiro, Eriol sighed heavily, slapping his forehead in despair.

They'll never be able to find the perfect gift for Syaoran at this rate. Irritated, he dumped the photos they gathered into the nearby garbage can and shuffled his hands into his jean pockets. It was like searching for the sapphire necklace the Titanic lady lost, or rather, tossed into the ocean. A search with no end: that was what this was.

"Hey! Wha d'you do that for?" Ignoring Hiro's angry protests, Eriol slouched his shoulders and started to walk away. The gentle summer breeze, moisture-laden and sweet, caressed his now sun-kissed skin. Rustling through his navy blue locks, he couldn't help but sigh again. His enigmatic sapphire eyes were now dull and filled with despair. His gaze shifted to the sky. It was pale blue and silky, enveloping the earth with its gentle embrace. The fleecy clouds chased after one another in a game of tag, so carefree and unfettered, while he was imprisoned by his own troubles.

Narrowing his eyes in a desperate attempt to forget about his worries, he uttered a curse under his breath. Just as he was feeling the urge to drop-kick a rock in the middle of the side walk, he saw a girl with short auburn hair sitting on the bench a few meters away under a beautiful cherry blossom tree.

The loosened petals drifted weightlessly in the air, carried by the gentle wind, surrounding her as if she was a princess. A few petals landed on her shoulder, some found an attachment in her soft hair, yet she minded none of it.

She had a sketchbook in her lap, and her pencil appeared to be busy with tracing down the contours of the object of her attention and shading the areas as needed. She gazed at the busy streets again, trying to capture the unfamiliar faces in the hurrying crowds -- their expressions at that fleeting moment.

The corners of her lips curved upward into a small, content smile, as she felt the feather-light touches of floating cherry blossom petals on her exposed skin. The sensations of such gentle touches lingered on. A few strands of silky auburn hair escaped from the hold of her hair clip and dangled around her porcelain visage, tinged slightly pink in certain areas.

The ends of her long white dress were fluttering upward, revealing the creamy white skin of her ankles and her delicate white shoes which matched her outfit perfectly. She was like an angel, like a beautiful art work, that was meant to be treated with the gentlest care.

Eriol was taken back by such innocent beauty. His leg movements had come into a stop, and he simply gawked at her.

"She looks rather… plain don't you think so?" Hiro's perplexed voice interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. He turned to face his friend, eyes slightly widened at the comment.

"Plain?"

"Well… she's not exactly pretty either. If I go easy on her, I would say she is only a 7 or 8 out of 10." Hiro crossed his arms, cocking his head to the right to take a better look at the girl on the bench.

"But she's different, very different from the other girls I've seen so far. She looks so content and serene, lost in her world of painting and drawing…" Eriol trailed off once again, feeling himself lost in such peacefulness and rare tranquility.

"Are you serious?" Shocked, Hiro widened his eyes, staring at his friend in disbelief. "Don't tell me you want to…"

"She's unique, classy, and _different_." It was neither a yes or no, just a simple statement that declared the commencement of a beautiful love story.

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**Chapter Two**

_Fly me away, to a far away land…where there are just you and me…and a pair of black wings…  
-- Aisaki Sumi_

The soft sigh was left reverberating through the air as Eriol approached the auburn haired girl. His hands were shoved into his jean pockets carelessly as he resumed his casual, slightly nonchalant expression.

He walked past her like a swift wind and plopped himself down in the empty spot beside her. His sharp, piercing sapphire eyes were trained on her, and he grinned to himself as he saw her reaction to his presence.

The grip around her sketching pencil tightened, but her facial expression remained the same. The shorter strands of auburn hair framed her face, and the longer ends lining her neckline were slightly curly, spiraling outward.

Eriol couldn't help but scrutinize her in fascination. The soft golden glow on her exposed porcelain neck caused his eyes to squint slightly as a natural response to the bright light. The blinding rays pierced the thickened layers of leaves that acted as a protective shield and landed haphazardly on her white dress. They lay like small, sparkling diamond chips studded across the white silk, giving her a heavenly appearance.

The way her hair flirted with the brisk late-summer breeze and dangled along the sides of her cheeks enthralled him. She looked like an ancient Greek goddess to him, so exotic and divine.

There was that comforting, soothing aura around her that made her presences so amiable. If his heart was not already with someone, he would've gone for her.

The thought of Syaoran being captivated by her innocent beauty made him grin. It would definitely be an enjoyable sight to see.

"Hey, nice drawing," he commented, eyes glancing briefly at the sketch in the making. Yet she did not reply, continuing her previous movement as if she were immersed in another world-- a world far away from this filthy reality, where she could not be tainted by the polluted air.

She lowered her head, hoping he would go away. But no such luck.

"What are you drawing anyway?" He tried again to start a conversation, knowing that it would probably end up one-sided, dominated by him. He saw her gripping the pencil as if it was the last thread of her life. The knuckles of her hand turned white and pale as she tightened her grasp. "Well…whatever you're drawing, it looks nice," he mumbled, tilting his head as he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to get a better look at her sketch book. But she merely tipped further away from him, trying to keep the distance between them.

He could tell she was uncomfortable, but the sight of it only made him even more intrigued. "Have you ever had a boyfriend before?" he pressed. The girl froze as the pencil held tightly between her forefinger and thumb slipped from her clutched hand and clattered onto the pavement.

Her auburn hair was shadowing her face, making her expression unreadable, but he knew she was shocked. Beaming as if the world couldn't get any better than this, he enlarged his blithe smile.

There was a triumphant glint glimmering in his eyes as he continued to observe her, glad that he had finally grabbed her undivided attention.

"I was just wondering…" he began carefully, keeping a close eye on her, not wanting to go too far and give her a heart attack. The last thing he wanted was a dead or unconscious girl lying on the sidewalk.

There was no way he would go through all this trouble again to find Syaoran another such suitable present. Absolutely no way! And he was quite resolute about that.

"Um… would you be interested in dating my best friend?" The long waited question finally arrived, echoing through the moist, faintly scented air. Eriol peered at her, listening carefully, afraid to miss even the tiniest sound.

Nothing came out however, much to his disappointment. She had not spoken a word since he had approached her, and Eriol was beginning to doubt the girl's ability to produce normal speech. _Maybe she was mute or something...?_

She stood abruptly, smoothing out the fabric of her dress. The sudden movement left the ends of her long white dress fluttering restlessly. Eriol's eyes widened in surprise, but quickly recovered as he looked up at her.

Her hands were clutched tightly onto the sketchbook as if she was holding on for dear life. The atmosphere between them was intense, and Eriol could feel the advancing waves of 'leave me alone' vibrations proceeding toward him.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow as he gaze at her expectantly. She swooped down suddenly to pick up the pencil that she had dropped a moment ago. She placed it in her pencil case along with her eraser and swerved in the opposite direction, starting to speed away from him as quickly as possible.

"Hey! Wait up!" Eriol called out, jumping off the bench. He reached out a hand to haul her to a stop, but she was already out of his reach.

She kept her head down, sketchbook close to her heart as she strode away, but she was soon stopped as Hiro appeared before her. She drew a sharp breath, a frightened gasp, glaring at the unwelcoming obstacle before her.

Hiro's lips curved into a grin as he wrapped his arm around her waist, hands grabbing hers and pulling them behind her back. The prepared rope bound her small wrists together harshly, leaving red marks behind on her creamy white skin.

Her grasp on the sketchbook loosened. It slipped from her hands and dropped onto the ground, creating a loud thump as it hit the hard concrete pavement.

Before the girl could even call out for help, he expeditiously pulled out a roll of rectangular shaped masking tape and sealed her lips with it, preventing any sound from reaching further than the radius of a meter. Horror and impotence flashed in her emerald green eyes, but Hiro could not have cared less.

He wrapped his arms around her, as if carrying a princess – or that was what most would assume – and placed her forcefully onto the front seat of his motorcycle. His arms were secured around her, making sure she would not fall as he sped away.

The loud roaring of the engine carried for miles on the wind that whirled by. It was a careless wind that lifted up a few of the abandoned cherry blossom petals, giving them the momentum to spiral and drift down in a lazy, weightless manner.

Eriol shook his head and heaved an aggravated sigh. Hiro would always be Hiro, using force on such fragile girl… _but_ _oh well._ He dismissed the thoughts as he heaved himself off the wooden bench, strolling lazily as he headed toward the location of the fallen sketchbook.

He bent down and picked it up with ease. Dusting off the dirt that clung to the black cover of the sketchbook, he flipped through it, eyes widening at the sights of her drawings. To say that he was deeply impressed by her artistic talents would be a great understatement.

Intrigued, he gently closed the book. The amused grin returned to his lips as his eyes spotted the neat writing on the cover of the sketchbook, labeling it as the property of its owner.

"Kinomoto Sakura…ka…" he tried on his tongue, finding the name quite pleasant.

"Sakura…" Sounding it out once more, a mischievous glint shimmered in his dark, enigmatic eyes. "Syaoran's favorite flower is cherry blossom… and this girl's name is cherry blossom as well… hmm…" he mused, looking down at the black hard cover of the sketchbook again.

Interesting…

He smiled in full anticipation as he tilted his head upward to gaze at the vast expanse of hazy blueness. He could not wait to see the leader of the Black Wings' reaction when he received his present.

"Saa… omoshiroii ne? (Interesting)"

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**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter Three**

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The sun's brilliant rays burned the material of his black jacket as he lowered his upper body to reduce resistance and increase the speed of his motorcycle. The violent wind, although tepid, was carrying the moisture and minty scent of summer. It rustled through his messy chestnut locks, causing the strands to flutter messily with each caress.

He had a delicately shaped visage, slightly sun-kissed, due to his long term exposure in the merciless sun. The shorter strands of his chestnut hair were flirting with the wind, waving about in the most haphazard manner. The blinding light permeated the locks of chestnut hair, causing the tips of it to glow like woven golden threads.

His eyes were set upon the road ahead of him, a pair of ardent, golden amber orbs, burning ever so brightly with such vehement passion. Dark hazel pigments with flecks of red encircled the pools of amber, outlining their delicate shape. Just one single glimpse of those eyes could melt an admirer's heart into a puddle of water.

The swift wind slid pass him, humming a harmonious melody and whispering words that only a few could understand. He sank into the pleasantness of the delightful music, a small grin forming on his lips as the corners lifted upward.

But it was quickly disturbed as the ring tone of his cell phone announced the presence of a new call. Furrowing his brows slightly in displeasure, he freed one of his hands from the controller that both monitored the speed of the motorcycle and operated the braking mechanism.

He flipped it open and muttered an annoyed greeting, "What is it this time Eriol?"

A soft chuckle came from the other line, and he felt the urge to roll his eyes. "How did you know it was me?" Eriol asked, and Syaoran could hear the faint amusement lacing his deep, yet smooth voice.

"There is this thing called caller ID, you know?" Syaoran remarked sarcastically, earning himself another quiet laugh from Eriol. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Syaoran silently started his countdown to hanging up on his friend. Ichi… ni... (one…two…)

"Saa," Syaoran's grip on his cell phone tightened, his finger nails digging into the plastic material of the phone, feeling its firmness against his finger tips. The 'saa' came out eerie, as if foreshadowing some unpleasant events that were yet to happen.

"I'm gonna hang up on you if you've got nothing important to say," he gently threatened, patience waning with the passing seconds. "Just say what you wanna say," he said flatly, frowning with great annoyance.

"Alright, alright. Hiro and I got you a present for your birthday, and you're gonna love it!" The emphasis on the 'love it' part made Syaoran snort slightly.

"Well you'd better appreciate this gift, cause Hiro and I scoured the entire town of Tomoeda for three days without stopping to find the perfect present for you."

"And did I ask you do get me a present?" Syaoran questioned, leaving the answer rather obvious.

"It's not every day that the leader of the Black Wings turns eighteen, you know. You should start celebrating your birthdays before you start hating them," Eriol gently chided, and Syaoran did not need to be there to see Eriol shaking his head disapprovingly, mimicking his mother's displeased expression.

"Birthday parties are pointless anyway. There's nothing special about that day," he grumbled. To him, his birthday was just another ordinary day, another declaration of his maturation. The last thing he would need was to celebrate a dreadful day such as that.

He was just another step closer to a fate that he'd rather avoid. Yelan and the elders had already informed him of his duties and responsibilities as the future leader of the powerful Li Clan.

They had struck a deal with him a long time ago, way before he could even understand most of his responsibilities. He was to take on the family's business, the Li Enterprise, and become the eminent leader he was destined to be.

"Well at least come and take a look at our gift," Eriol insisted, refusing to take no for an answer.

"You just don't take no for an answer, eh?"

"Nope." The overly sweet tone of his cheerful reply was too eerie for Syaoran's liking. It caused him to shudder slightly.

Sighing, Syaoran gave in, "Alright I'll come." It was energy draining to argue with Eriol.

"Great! Come to the base and take a look at your present. You're gonna love it!" Eriol exclaimed excitedly, but Syaoran could only groan in reply.

Eriol was known for his sadistic tactics and strange sense of humor. Sometimes Syaoran wondered what was behind that ever-present smile, but for the sake of his own sanity and fragile mind, he never really went so far as removing the mask from his friend's face and taking a look at the face hidden behind it.

He flipped the phone close, stuffing it carelessly into his pocket. His attention returned to the road while his mind pondered the kind of present they had gotten for him.

He really wasn't looking forward to it.

……

The unfamiliarity of the room made her shiver with growing fear. Her eyes were covered by the blindfold, exposing her vulnerability to the world. Her heart was thumping with an all too familiar fear that twisted her guts and cut through her stomach.

The smell of fear and danger charged the air, adding to its stiffness, making it thick and heavy. Even the simplest task, such as breathing, had become increasingly hard. The intense, deafening silence surrounded her and threatened to devour her entirely. It whispered a nameless fear that haunted her frail sanity.

She could hear her own heart beats, the frantic ba-bump, ba-bump declared her defenselessness. She was like a child, lost in a world that was all too foreign to her.

Her senses were sharpened with the loss of her sight, and she could feel danger lurking in the darkness that encompassed her.

The pain from her bound wrists reminded her that she was tied up and guarded as if she was a prisoner. She could feel a pair of watchful eyes on her, observing her every moment. It irked her that he was able to see her while she could only guess his whereabouts.

"You really should stop trying to escape. It's not going to work. Your hands are tied to your back, and your legs are bound together," the taunting voice sneered. Sakura whipped her head in the direction of the voice and gnawed the corners of her mouth.

"Besides, you should consider yourself a very lucky girl to be here," he went on. Suddenly, his words were interrupted by the screeching sound of an object being dragged across the room, which she assumed to be a chair.

"Not a lot of girls get to become the girlfriend of the leader of the Black Wings. Just ask any girl in Tomoeda and they would be more than happy to switch places with you."

_Black Wings…_ Sakura frowned in contemplation as her mind tried to figure out what it was. The first thing that came to her mind was a fierce gang, and this realization made her blood run cold.

Suddenly she heard a click. It sounded like someone was unlocking the door. Gulping, she waited silently for what fate had prepared for her.

"Syaoran, this is your present."

Following the statement, the blindfold that blocked her vision a moment ago was taken off.

Sakura blinked, and her eyes widened as she looked up.

_A pair of amber… eyes…_

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**Chapter Four**

A gasp escaped Syaoran's lips as he stared down at the frightened girl sitting in the corner. Her legs were bound tightly together, and her arms appeared to be tied together as well, restricting her from even the slightest movement.

She had short auburn hair with the ends of those silky strands barely touching her shoulders. Her face was delicately shaped, revealing an innocence that was rarely seen on earth, untainted by the ugliness of the mortal's world. The long white dress she was wearing complemented her pale, porcelain skin, giving her the appearance of an angel.

Her eyes, however, seemed mismatched with her entire complexion. They were emerald green, a rich, unique shade of green color that he had never seen before, yet they were icy and dull, dark with a stony grief, and hollow with a haunted expression.

Her face was solemn and sad, and her piercing green eyes were clouded with an unexplainable grief. Yet strangely enough, the gauntness of her face made her appear more mature and beautiful than ever. Her distant and sorrowful eyes and slender figure gave a hint of vulnerability yet mystery.

She appeared like a sullen angel, fallen from the heavens and misplaced here on earth. He had never seen such innocent and sorrowful beauty before. An enigmatic and placid aura surrounded her, distancing her from the rest of the sinful, polluted world. Syaoran felt himself drowning in such divine and exoticness…

"So what do you think of her Syaoran?" a voice interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to the reality. Syaoran whipped his head in the direction of the voice, eyes hazy and lost. But when Eriol's smirking face registered in his mind, he quickly realized what he had been doing for the past several minutes.

His eyes shifted away from Eriol and landed on the girl's frightened face again, processing the information in his dumbfounded brain. "What were you guys thinking?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth. A deep frown formed on his face as his eyebrows furrowed disapprovingly.

"Err… we were thinking about you? And that's why we got the present for you?" Eriol sent Syaoran an inquisitive look, one of his eyebrows was quirked as the words rolled slowly off his tongue, tinged with uncertainty, while his sharp, piercing dark blue eyes watched his friend's expression carefully.

"A present?" Syaoran echoed as he stared at Eriol in disbelief. His lips parted as if he were going to continue speaking, yet nothing came out. He was simply overwhelmed by the information offered before him.

Silently deciding it was pointless to try to talk some sense into Eriol's impenetrable head, he let out an aggravated sigh and strolled off toward the abducted girl, his supposed 'birthday present'. Besides, if this _present_ was for his birthday, at least they should have given it to him on his birthday, not three days in advance.

He halted as he neared the girl. Her face was pale with fear, and he could see a faint trace of courage on her white face. He reached out a hand, but she inched herself away from him, jerking her head away from his hand as if it were some offending object.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," he said softly, holding his hand out to show her that she had nothing to fear. The girl said nothing in reply, and he decided it was a sign to proceed with his previous movement.

He bent down, lowering his upper body to reach her hands that were tied behind her back. The reddened skin came into view as he loosened the tightly bound ropes from those delicate wrists. The frown on his face deepened as he traced the marked skin with his finger tip gently. Her hand flinched away from his touch as if it burned, and he quickly backed away.

She held her wrists close to her heart, her slender fingers stroking the reddened areas as if scarlet paint had been spilled over it. The dark shade red mixed with the rich pink color and stood out from her pale, silky skin, creating a bright contrast against its background.

"Sorry about this," Syaoran apologized sincerely as he noticed her hands and resumed his task of untying the tautly bound ropes around her ankles. Damn it! He swore inwardly as he attempted to pull the tight knots apart. Hiro sure knows how to tie people up properly… the sarcastic thought passed through his mind as the rope finally fall loose.

She quickly retracted her legs and wrapped her arms around them, curling into a ball, frightened to have any bodily contact with the tainted room or his tainted hands. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he glanced at her briefly. Eriol and Hiro really did a good job of scaring the girl.

"I'll take you home," he offered as he stood up. Looking down at her patiently, he sought her reply; however, it did not come. Silence was the only response he got. Syaoran held out his hand in a friendly gesture, trying to help her to lift her weight upward, but she refused the hand he offered in help.

One of her hands acted as a supporting pillar while she exerted force against the ground to slowly propel her body upward. Though still shaky, she regained her balance and composure. Her eyes glanced over the sketchbook that was lying a few meters away from her, a flicker of an urgent want glinted in the pools of emerald.

Syaoran's eyes traced the invisible line of her vision and it led him to the sketchbook and the pencil case beside it. "Is that yours?" he asked carefully, keeping his voice soft and calm, not wanting to scare her even more than she already was.

She stayed silent and unresponsive. However, he took as a yes to his question since it was the first time had had ever seen a sketchbook lying abandoned in their base. "Hiro, pass me the sketchbook," he said, pointing his forefinger at the subject of his interest.

And Hiro, who was sitting on the chair comfortably a moment ago, grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and reluctantly returned the sketchbook to its rightful owner.

"I don't get why you're being so nice to that girl all of a sudden… besides, she a present…" Hiro muttered a complaint, eyes on the floor as he shoved his hands carelessly into his jeans pockets. His voice trailed off, but Syaoran knew Hiro was displeased with what he was doing and was probably mumbling his displeasure quietly to himself.

Ignoring Hiro and the way Eriol looked at him as if he were insane, Syaoran returned his undivided attention to the girl who hadn't spoke a word since his arrival, not even as a cry for help.

"Where do you live? I'll take you home. Take it as my apology for the irresponsible actions of those two," he persisted, gazing at her almost timidly. Guilt reflected in his amber eyes as they traveled down from her face to her wrists. They really had gone too far this time…

She tilted her head upward slightly until their eyes met. She stared straight into his eyes, scouting for some motive in his actions, as if making a judgment on whether or not he was trustworthy enough.

Her cherry red, naturally glossed lips pressed together and she quickly looked away and down at the sketchbook he had returned to her minutes ago.

Flipping it open to a blank page, she ignored the inquisitive and perplexed looks he tossed at her and swiftly began to draw. He didn't have to wait for an answer, however, as she hastily ripped out the page and held it up for him.

Syaoran was taken aback by her abrupt movement and gawked at the piece of paper in front of him. He quickly realized that he had received the answer he was looking for. She had drawn a map for him.

A smile slowly made its way to his face as he cast her a brief glance, taking the paper and scrutinizing it. "Ah… I've passed this place a few times when I was on my way home from school," he mumbled with a glimmer of delight in his eyes.

"Alright then," he said with finality, and he gestured for her to follow him out of the room. He left Eriol and Hiro gaping at their backs in disbelief, their eyes hazy with uncertainty and doubt of their leader's sanity.

……

Sakura followed him outside where a red motorcycle was parked near a cherry blossom tree. She watched him silently as he went over to get the motorcycle, her eyes squinting in a natural response to the brightness of its exterior.

He signaled her to hop on, which she reluctantly did, careful not to have any body contact with him. He cocked his head to the right, looking at her doubtfully. "You're gonna fall off if you don't hold on to something."

She bit her lower lip and placed the sketch book in front of her, which took up the space between them, and her hands gripped tightly onto the metal frame of the seat. He had probably meant for her to hold onto to him, but seeing her discomfort with touching him, Syaoran shrugged it off and returned his eyes to the road.

The engine roared like a wild beast, a wolf as it sped away. The brilliant, luminous light of the sun burned like an undying flame – a resemblance of passions – and its resplendency was breathtakingly beautiful. Sakura felt herself drowning in its brightness.

The hasty wind rustled her hair, causing the strands to flutter messily. She felt her eyes closing in their attempt to resist the violent wind that was threatening to tear her frail form apart. The howling gusts bellowed in her ears, deafening her.

"You can hold on to me if you want." His voice blended into the roars of the wind, becoming insignificant, indistinct and distant in comparison. But she stubbornly refused his offer as she clenched her hands around the cool metallic bars until her knuckles turned white.

The motorcycle suddenly screeched to a halt, declaring the end of the ride. Sakura's forehead slammed into Syaoran's back as the motorcycle suddenly stopped. He turned around, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"This is your house right?" he inquired, casting a brief glance at the residential structure before them. Sakura rubbed her injured forehead and looked up, seeing the familiar house that she called home.

Nodding, she got off the backseat shakily, carrying her precious sketchbook in one hand. He tossed her a grin as his goodbye before speeding away into the brilliant rays of the sun.

She brought a hand up into the mid air, shadowing her eyes as an attempt to see through the blinding sunlight. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she saw something spreading out on his back before he disappeared into the bright light.

_It was a pair of black wings._

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**Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Black Wings**  
_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter Five**

_Fly me away, to a far away land, where there are just you and me and a pair of black wings..._

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Sakura kicked off her shoes quickly and dashed straight for her bedroom. She wanted to capture the image she saw in a page of her sketchbook before time could distort the image and cause it to fade away. A pair of black wings… a pair of black wings… she mumbled silently to herself in a repetitive chant.

Her eyes were unfocused as she made her way up the spiraling stairs and to her room. Ignoring her father's greeting, she shut the door and hurried off to her desk. She flipped her sketchbook open to a blank page and hastily took out her pencil, beginning her swift movements.

The tip of her pencil traced over the curves and shades on the paper. She then slanted the pencil slightly to use its sides to add in a different kind of shade to the wings she was working on. Concentrated on her drawing, she failed to notice that she was still wearing her outdoor jacket.

Her keenly focused eyes were glinting with a rare shine that could only be seen whenever she was drawing. It was an indication, a sign of her deep concentration. Painting, sketching, art, to her, was a language, a way of communicating with people who were able to understand the deeper message that was passed on through the artwork.

This silent means of expression involved no words. Just a pencil, a piece of paper, and an eraser would do. The pictures produced by those three simple things could be stunningly beautiful, more beautiful than any poetry, any story, or any song's lyrics.

She paused for a moment, eyes closed, as she attempted to remember all the details of the image she managed to imprint onto her mind; however, time was taking its effect, and the image was starting to become unclear and slightly faded in the corners.

He had a pair of beautiful black wings. The ink-colored feathers glistened under the bright sunlight, creating such a strong contrast with the blindingly white background of the light. His wings spread out at the exact instant when he pulled up his motorcycle and disappeared into the brilliant shower of lights. It gave the false impression that he was flying, reaching out a hand to touch the sky.

The scene stood out in her mind, and she thought that she had never seen anything more beautiful and magical than that. Perhaps she was hallucinating because her desperate mind wanted to meet the dark angel that she had heard so much about from her mother.

Nadeshiko had told her stories since she was little, saying that one day, when the earth is tumbling; when the heavend are falling down upon the mortal realm; when the world is ending; when hopes are shattered and vanishing; when dreams are turned into nightmares; an angel with large black wings would come and bring salvation to this dying world.

As the thought rambled out of her mind, she stared down at the finished picture with critical, scrutinizing eyes. It was a perfect representation of him, the boy who had saved her from the other two, and his black wings. He appeared to be floating, flying, soaring in the blue sky without a care in the world.

No angel in the heavens could rival his elegance, and she was quite resolute about that.

The shading brought out the liveliness of the picture, especially the wings, making them seem to protrude from the page. She reached out a slender finger to touch the wing, yet halted when it was only a centimeter away. The oil and moisture on her hand would smudge the page.

A small smile formed on her lips as she placed the sketchbook carefully onto her desk again. Silently she decided that she would attempt an oil painting of it someday, if she ever saw that dark angel again.

A sudden knock on the door pulled her back to the present. Turning just slightly, she looked over her shoulder and her gaze fell upon the door. Her mind wondered who the interrupter might be, but she quickly received her answer as the person's soft, yet deep fatherly voice spoke, "Sakura, you have a visitor."

Quirking an eyebrow, she puzzled for a moment. A visitor? This was only her third day back to Tomeoda, how could she possibly have a guest? Pushing the questions aside, she answered, "Wakkada." The door swung open at that instant, revealing her father and her first visitor.

The girl at the door had long, raven hair that cascaded over her shoulders in wavy locks of ebony. Like a mystical midnight waterfall, such beauty was absolutely divine. She had a gorgeous visage with pale, porcelain skin and rosy cheeks. The two majestic curls that hung loosely on her shoulders gave her the appearance of an expensive Japanese doll.

"Sakura-chan, long time no see." Beaming, she greeted Sakura with a radiant smile.

Sakura's eyes widened in surprise as the sweet voice registered in her mind. "To…moyo-chan?" It was a timid inquiry, full of uncertainty. Emerald green eyes traveled up and down and studied the girl before her.

"Hai. It's been six long years, and I'm glad you haven't forgotten about me."

"I…" Sakura began, soft cherry red lips parted slightly, revealing her pearl-like teeth. The stunned expression remained on her face as she sought hard for the right words to put together, but found nothing more suitable than silence as a response.

"I'll leave you girls to catch up on some of the things you missed over the past few years." Fujitaka smiled gently. It was a heartwarming scene. He shifted his eyes to Tomoyo and then back to Sakura, a hopeful shine glittering in his dark brown eyes. Maybe Tomoyo could open Sakura up again… since she had been her closest friend.

Tomoyo bowed slightly to Fujitaka, silently thanking him for providing them the opportunity to cast aside cold formality and to catch up on the things they had missed in each other's lives over the past six years—years that seemed more like an eternity.

Tomoyo stepped into the room gracefully, hands folded gracefully. "It's great to have you back again," she began, sitting down on the edge of Sakura's bed like she always did when they were still young. Her large, soft amethyst eyes scanned her surroundings, noticing the dimly lit corners and the lack of a lively spirit in the room.

"Tomoeda hasn't changed that much, except they finally decided to repair the two buildings of Tomoeda Heights since the structure was over a hundred years old and needed some serious repairs. Penguin Park is pretty much the same as before, but they replaced the rusted penguin sculptures with new ones." Tomoyo went on, listing the things that had and hadn't changed over the years.

Sakura stayed silent the entire time, listening to the other girl's familiar, velvety voice, while her eyes observed Tomoyo's features. Her physical appearance had changed only slightly over the years. She was taller and more slender now than ever, and her eyes weren't as large and child-like anymore. Yet her graceful posture remained the same, unchanged from how it was years ago.

"You've changed," the other suddenly stated, startling Sakura and causing her to jerk her head slightly. Their eyes briefly met, gazes aligning for a moment too short to be realized, yet it was long enough to crack the layers hiding the emotions within them both.

"But I guess it's only natural that you change…" Tomoyo paused, hesitating over what she was about to say. She spent a few seconds searching for the right words… "over the years."

For a moment, they just stared at each other awkwardly. The suspense in the air was slowly building and finally, Tomoyo looked away, dark bangs falling over her eyes, shielding them from view; however, they did not keep her from seeing the picture frame that was left abandoned on the dusty bookshelves.

"I'm sorry about your loss." The words escaped from her mouth too quickly, before she even had the time to think. Sakura flinched at the abrupt mention of her mother and the momentarily forgotten pain returned to the chambers of her heart.

"But you'll move on. You're back in Tomoeda again. You're home. We'll help you get through the tough times."

Sakura looked down and studied her now trembling hands, clasping them together to hide her weakness. She was tired, exhausted from it all, but the last thing she needed was for the people who still cared about her to worry.

Nodding, she refused to lift her eyes and meet the pair of saddened and concerned eyes that were demanding her attention. Her sharp ears picked up the quiet squeak made by the bed as Tomoyo shifted her weight.

Tomoyo rose from her seat and approached within a few steps of Sakura. The soft rustling of the fabrics sounded very soft and pleasant to her ears. She felt a hand rest on her shaking shoulder, a firm grip that held her in place before she shattered, fell apart.

To lighten the mood a bit, Tomoyo spotted the finished sketch that was lying temporarily forgotten on the desk. "It's a beautiful sketch, Sakura. I always knew you could draw well, but gosh, this is just too good to be passed off as a seventeen-year-old's drawing. If I saw it somewhere else, I would probably think it had been done by a professional."

The compliment caused Sakura to look over her shoulder. "Who is that supposed to be, Sakura? A flying angel?" Tomoyo asked inquisitively.

"It's a dark angel," Sakura answered quietly, remembering the overly brief moment when he spread out his wings and embraced the sun.

_He was a dark angel._

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Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored.


	6. Chapter 6

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

_Fly me away, to a far away land…where there's just you and me…and a pair of black wings…_

**Chapter Six**

September: the start of a new school year; the beginning of another season, marking the end of the all too short summer holidays. The cool, faintly minty air slowly replaced the humid, moisture-laden ones of summer. The season of harvesting was just around the corner, quietly making its presence known through the changes of the color of the leaves, adding small puddles of auburn and flaming red dyes to their edges.

The brisk, refreshing breeze spread through the field, the years were gone almost too quickly, carrying with it faint traces of nostalgia. Sakura stood under the large cherry blossom tree that extended out its branches in a form of an umbrella, shielding her from the gentle shower of white lights.

The sun wasn't as merciless and bright as before, she noticed. The rays were much gentler, and softer: it was almost dim and sad in a way. Sakura tightened her grasp around her sketchbook and held it closer to her heart. Arts were her life, and she had carried her sketchbook wherever she went ever since her mother's death.

Nadeshiko bought her the sketchbook as a gift for her twelfth birthday and encouraged her to draw, to express her feelings—the things she couldn't translate into words—through her sketches. She loved arts. It was the only way she could be honest with herself and cast aside the delusive lies that surrounded her.

Words could be deceptive at times; people could mask their feelings and emotions and ugly intentions easily through culled speeches. But when artists paint, their mood, thoughts, emotions were all displayed on the canvas. Nothing was hidden, nothing was masked. They painted the image they saw in their mind; the beautiful reflection of their hearts.

Sakura loved painting her dreams land when she was younger. The image of that gentle slope still stood out in her mind. She remembered the day when Nadeshiko was standing on the top of the hill, suffering the wind as it whipped her loose white dress around her, tossing the long waves of ebony hair around her visage restlessly.

Like an angel, Nadeshiko ran a hand through her long hair, looking out over a field full of flowers in all shades of warm colors. The wind that was blowing against them brought the fragrance of those flowers along, something that smelled sweet and gentle, lightly drawing them closer to the field. She recalled how her mother looked on that very day, her eyes closed against the breeze, smiling faintly.

It looked like a picture out of a fairytale book.

But she no longer wished to paint that picture. It would simply bring back too many memories that were better to be left alone, untouched and forgotten—like an old, abandoned brownish photograph, fading away around the edges as time battered it. She didn't want to remember it. She wanted them to be forgotten, but she knew it was a burden she must carry on for the rest of her life.

Summer would always bring these memories back to her, and she was thankful that it was finally ending.

Staring ahead at the tall buildings surrounded by tall black metallic fences before her, she realized how long she had been absent from this small town. It was a place where she had happily grown up and then left reluctantly when her parents' divorce shattered her world.

It marked the commencement of her new journey and her new life away at Tokyo, where it involved only her and Nadeshiko.

She had thought she was starting anew and would remain in this new place; however, she had been proven wrong by fate, as she was brought back to this town where she was raised and had once been happy.

Tomoeda, a place she had left behind, the place that brought her mother and father together, but also the same place that had torn them apart. And Sakura didn't know if she should miss the place or hate it.

Deciding on neither, she let out a small sigh and waited patiently for her best friend's arrival. She had promised Tomoyo that she would wait by this cherry blossom tree so they could enter the school gates together, like they had done so many times before, like nothing had changed between them. But Sakura knew, better than anyone else, that her life was no longer the same.

She was no longer the same Sakura that left Tomoeda six years ago.

The four years she had spent in Tokyo asylum after her mother's suicide had changed her and had irretrievably altered her personality. The shock of discovering her mother's dead body, covered in blood and huddled in the bathtub, sent her to the realms of insanity. This event turned her world upside down and shattered the beautiful images painted by her innocent dreams and naïve beliefs.

During her stay at the asylum, she had become more quiet and reserved, letting herself fade into the facades and become invisible—fading until she became a part of the whiteness that embraced the vacant place that was filled with people like her—people who no longer wished to be part of this disgusting, sickeningly sinful world that indulged the ugliness, the deceiving lies and people's ill intentions.

At the age of thirteen, Sakura was forced to face the hard reality, a darkness lurking in the corners of the world that she had once thought so beautiful. Her emerald green eyes lost their childlike innocence and the brilliant glint that reflected a child's dreams. They grew colder and harder as she slowly learned the corrupted and tainted nature of the world around her.

It was then she decided that she would smile no more and would speak no more.

She learned to depend on herself instead of on the _others_—others who were bound to leave her behind one day and never look back. Perhaps people like her were meant to walk down the road of life alone, wandering in pure solitude, carrying the burden of guilt and an unspeakable sorrow and bitterness that only they could understand.

Even though she was back and had been treated with familiarity by Tomoyo, she knew better. She knew that they all look at her differently now. She could see the sympathetic look in their eyes or the frightened glances they cast her way. To them, she would always be that faded young girl, battered psychologically, who was labeled as insane and haunted by the memories of her mother's death.

A doctor, or rather a therapist, had taught her how to use paintings instead of words to express herself. And in that way she could take her anger or fear or anxiety out on the canvas instead of on herself. It was the only way to cure her, or so they said, since she refused to speak to any of the doctors, even her family members.

Her father had gone to the asylum to visit her quite a number of times before, but she refused to see him, or anyone else. She just wanted to be left alone, locked up in a white room where she could think through things. She remembered, on those days when she was scared, how she thought of the story Nadeshiko had told her during the happier moments of her life when she still had a family.

Those soft words always echoed in her mind. "…when the earth is tumbling; when the heavens are falling down upon the mortal realm; when the world is ending; when hopes are shattered and vanishing; when dreams are turned into nightmares; an angel with large black wings would come and bring salvation to this dying world..."

She often found herself doubting the accuracy of the prophecy. It was simply too unrealistic for her to accept. Yet a part of her believed in it, strangely enough.

She thought she had lost the ability to believe, to dream, the moment when her world shattered into thousands of small shards, and when insanity took her into its cold embrace. She was almost sure that it couldn't be true, but the meeting with _him_ changed her mind.

Dark angels did exist. _Because he was real._

It was then that the loud rumbling of the engine hauled her back into the reality. She turned in the direction of the advancing waves of noise resounding through the air. And there, she saw that familiar looking motorcycle, flaming red, glittering dazzlingly bright even under the dim sunlight.

The dark angel was right in front of her, riding on that motorcycle. She stared at him with such fascination, mesmerized by his sudden appearance. The strands of soft chestnut hair fluttered with the wind, glowing a brilliant honey tint, like golden threads of the finest silk.

She squinted her eyes a little, her mind tracing the invisible contours of his black wings. There was a grin of confidence on his face as he pulled the motorcycle up into a flying position. She remembered seeing that image on the day he took her home and saved her from the kidnappers.

At that very moment, she almost believed he could shine a light through her darkened world, and lead her back to the right path again, the trail that she had strayed away from so long ago. He could be the angel she had heard her mother speak so frequently of, the one that would bring salvation to her world.

Like a the brilliant light of the distant Northern Star, perhaps he could help her find the way back home, to her once perfect life again, filled with love and so much more.

_Until then…_

"Sakura-chan!" She whipped her head around, turning her attention toward the speaker: a natural reaction to the sudden call. There, she spotted the familiar smiling face of Tomoyo, someone who used to be her best friend, who stayed by her side through thick and thin, someone who promised to help her pick up the pieces of what was left in her life.

She didn't know if she could believe again.

Dipping her chin low until it touched the edge of her sketchbook, she strolled down the path which would lead her to Tomoyo. A gentle wind whirled by, caressing her cheeks as she neared the gates of her new school.

But she was soon stopped by another distant call.

"Hey sketchbook-girl!"

She turned at the nickname, not sure if it was for her. But she definitely matched the description. Green eyes peered through the waves of other advancing students, wearing the same type of uniform as her, and her vision led her back to the place where it had been a moment ago.

There, she saw a grinning Hiro and Eriol, and as well, the owner of that pair of passionate amber eyes that seemed so piercing and stared right into the broken, lost soul in this battered shell.

_Those eyes belonged to her dark angel. _

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	7. Chapter 7

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I lub you guys!**

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Chapter Seven**

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She responded to the call by tilting her head to their way. Hauntingly beautiful emeralds met burning ambers, aligning their visions in a moment almost too short to be recognized, yet long enough to crack the layers of emotions hidden within him.

He was surprised, stunned to see a dark hollowness in her eyes. He didn't recall on seeing it before, when he met her for the first time. Or maybe he was just being more observant this time since he wasn't paying much attention to her, but to Eriol and Hiro who were actually absurd enough to kidnap someone and give her to him as a present.

There was a great saying: "one's eyes are the windows to their soul". But no matter how hard he looked, he just couldn't find a justification for such seemingly innocent, frail girl to possess a soul as broken and tormented as this one.

Her face was unusually pale under the illuminating rays of the sun. It cast a faint golden glow over her cheek, tinting it slightly silvery and white. Her lips were pressed into a thin line like they did before. The corners of her small, almost delicate mouth never lifted up, as if she was rebelling silently against something.

She didn't smile like other girls around her age. The detached look in her eyes revealed her intent on being invisible and unnoticed by the world, matching the almost dark and mysterious aura around her perfectly. She was different, very different from the other girls he had encountered before. And this mere fact intrigued him immensely.

He didn't even know why he was paying so much attention to her. Perhaps it was because of the absurdity of their meeting, or the mere fact that Eriol and Hiro were ridiculous enough to pick her as his girlfriend. They were two people occupying different ends of the spectrum, and he simply didn't see how they could have thought that she was the one for him, after being his best buddies for such a long time.

Nonetheless, she had stirred something in him, and now, all he had to do was figure out what had she stirred.

A grin played on Syaoran's lips as he saw her stiffen, flinched subtly at the sight of them, yet she did not move an inch from where she was a moment ago. She had refused to display any signs of weakness to them. This rare tenaciousness revealed by her simple poise enlarged his grin.

He was fascinated by her.

"Long time no see sketchbook-girl!" Hiro's teasing voice interrupted his thoughts. And the next thing he knew, Hiro already got off his motorcycle and ambled over to where she stood. Sharp amber eyes trained upon the quiet, mysterious girl he had met sometimes during the summer holidays as he followed Hiro, while scouting for her reactions.

An utterly amused Eriol tagged along, looking nothing but delighted, as if the world couldn't get any better than this.

_Sadistic bastard._ Syaoran thought darkly to himself as he cast the smiling boy next to him a sophisticated look. Frankly speaking, he never really liked the harmless smile displayed on the other's face. It was probably due to his unusually sharpened sixth sense, and it told him never to mess with Eriol, only god knew the devil behind that angelic mask.

Upon reaching the girl, who only tightened her grip around her sketchbook as she shifted slightly away from the approaching trio as if their presence was beyond offensive. She glared hard at them, her green eyes icy and full of distrust, yet he could see the hints of fear betraying those shadowed orbs.

Syaoran couldn't blame her for it. After all, who wouldn't be scared to meet the devils that kidnapped her out of the blues under living daylights?

"Don't worry, they're not going to hurt you this time." He assured her, as if he had read her mind. He sent her a scrutinizing look, and waited patiently for a reply that he knew would never come. Apparently the girl lacked the ability to speak. It was either that or she was deaf. Or maybe she just didn't see the point of speaking to them.

"What's your name? I didn't get it the last time we met." Syaoran asked casually, his voice soft and gentle as he stared at her expectantly. But she merely glared at him, showing no intent on answering his question.

Before Syaoran could ask any further questions, Eriol cut in, although more it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to her.

"I didn't know you attend to this school too." Eriol tapped his chin, a faint amusement lacing in his voice. "Is this your first time here or something? 'Cause I don't really recall on ever seeing you here before…" he trailed off, a glint of mischief shimmered in his dark cerulean orbs that resembled the impenetrable deep blueness of the enigmatic ocean.

"Ah, you must be new to Tomoeda!" He drew out a conclusion, slamming his fist into his left hand's palm as a manifest expression formed in his eyes. The gleeful smile widened as he added under his breath in sheer amusement. "This is going to be a fun year…"

"You know if you need someone to show you around the school, I'd be more than happy to take the job." Eriol offered, the unwavering smile slowly changed into something else, something that resembled a smirk. A devious smirk to be exact.

The girl remained silent with an indignant look on her face. It was then another distant, yet almost urgent call diverted their attention to it. There, Syaoran saw a long haired girl with an appalled expression attached to her face as she scampered toward them.

Within seconds, she reached them and stepped in front of the quiet auburn-haired girl protectively, directing a disapproving and disdainful glower at their way. "Leave her alone." She demanded in an authoritarian voice. The lone statement was then left resonating in the air that was heavy with suspense and the overlapping indistinctive ongoing conversations in the background.

"And why should we?" Hiro inquired challengingly, his voice like silk trailing across a knife's edge as he glared down at Tomoyo in equal fierce. Backing down from a fight was never part of his vocabulary, and he wasn't about to let some girl tell him off. Until the day the earth starts orbiting around the moon, he would never allow it to happen.

Freeing a hand from his previous grasp onto the controller of the motorcycle, he brought it into the mid air, reaching forward until his finger tips touched her chin.

"What if I don't? What are you going to do then?" He asked defiantly as he narrowed his eyes dangerously; unsaid threats lacing his voice. Hiro saw a flash of fright in Tomoyo's large amethyst eyes, which disappeared as soon as it surfaced. But the mere thought of her being afraid of him made the smugly smirk on his lips to widen.

"Oi, let go of her." The dark warning came from his side. Hiro turned to face the speaker, but only to find himself staring into a pair of perilous cerulean eyes which he recognized to belong to none other than Hiiragizawa Erio.

Sniffling in dissatisfaction, Hiro let go unwillingly nonetheless, not wanting to risk getting onto Eriol's bad side. _That guy can be such an overprotective bastard sometimes._ He thought to himself, but never uttered out the words.

Tomoyo shot them another menacing glare before dragging a stiffened Sakura away from the trio. Their diminishing figures blended into the advancing tides of people in identical uniforms. All Syaoran could do was to watch, finding the scene rather eccentric, and the quiet painter quite peculiar.

"Hey do any of you know her name?" He suddenly asked, directing his question at no one in particular, leaving it open for anyone who could offer him an answer.

"Kinomoto Sakura. Her name is Kinomoto Sakura." Eriol replied, studying Syaoran from the corner of his eyes.

"Sakura…" He echoed, trying the name on his tongue, finding it sound rather pleasant. An intrigued glint glimmered in his golden amber eyes, making it hard to distinguish if it was due to the affects of the light or of something else…

"Why so interested in knowing her name all of a sudden? I thought you didn't care about girls?" Quirking an eyebrow, Eriol pressed for answers without making his intent seem too obvious. He had known Syaoran for as long as he could remember, and the other had never taken an interest in any girls before, not even the slightest bit. And the abrupt change in his friend's attitude made him wonder.

"I don't." Syaoran responded curtly, still not taking his eyes off the frail figure that should have blended into the crowds easily, yet for some strange, for some unexplainable reasons, she stood out amongst all these other students. She was just that different, that hard to miss.

Like the beautiful cherry blossoms, she appeared to be so innocent, delicate and dainty on the outside, yet she held so many secrets within her that allured countless number of admirers to her. Or at least she had managed to obtain his sheer interest with such ease.

Her silence, her dark and recondite aura made him to contemplate. Like a piece of puzzle, an enigma that no one could figure out, she stood there in the crowd, almost untouchable, unreachable, and incomprehensible. This stirred something in him, perhaps his innate curiosity, he didn't know. But what he was resolute about was that he wanted to solve her, to figure her out.

It was almost enthralling, challenging in a way, and Li Syaoran never backed down from a challenge.

……

"Sakura-chan, I don't know how you got to know those people, but they're dangerous." Tomoyo looked at her meaningfully, with a rare seriousness lingering in her eyes as if she was trying to pass down a deeper message to Sakura. "Stay away from them." She warned Sakura as they slowly made their way to their home form.

Sakura kept her eyes on the well-polished ground that was glowing slightly silvery as the bright lights in the hallway bounced off it. She simply hugged the sketchbook closer to her chest, recollecting her memories of her first encounter with them on her second day back to Tomoeda.

"They're in the gang, Black Wings, lead by Li Syaoran, the chestnut haired guy you saw with the other two." Tomoyo explained as they continued down the hallway with the other students who were heading toward their assigned home forms as well.

"I don't want you to get involved with any of them, since this is only your first day here at Tomoeda Heights. There are still a lot of things you should know about the people at this school, before continuing further."

Sakura nodded along absentmindedly as she listened in silence. While she tried to sound out his name in her mind, the name of her dark angel. He was the one who had saved her from the two kidnappers, the one who brought her home safely, and the one who treated her with nothing but gentleness.

She had a suspicion that they were gangsters. It was just her intuition, and she knew, her intuitions were right most of the times.

"The leader of Black Wings is actually the successor of the eminent Li Clan. I'm sure you've heard of them before. They're quite famous in Asia. It is the only reason why the school never bothered to dismiss the gang. They always turn on a blind eye to whatever they do, as long as the violence isn't too out of control." Tomoyo commented bitterly, disgusted at the corruptness of the school's system.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, it's better off if you don't talk to them at all. If you see them, just ignore them and pretend you have something else important to do and leave right away." She advised as they continued to stroll down the wide, illuminated hallway of Tomoeda Heights.

Suddenly Tomoyo halted into a stop and twisted around. Sakura was surprised at her sudden movement and stopped as well, looking up at her but only to find herself staring straight into the eyes of a deadly serious Tomoyo. "I don't want anything to happen to you again Sakura."

"I don't want you to get hurt again."

Sakura's green eyes widened as she felt her heart skip a beat.

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Feedbacks appreciated. Flames ignored.


	8. Chapter 8

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter Eight**

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Sakura felt her chest tightened as the soft words reached her ears. They seemed so unnaturally loud, and deafening in a sense. She was literally frozen on the spot, staring into the pair of sincere amethyst eyes, while she fought hard to keep her collectiveness.

Her mind was in the state of chaos. The memories that she tried so hard to forget were once again renewed, haunting her frail mind like it did before. The recollection was tearing apart her thread-bare sanity.

The lone statement hung in the air as they stood there in the midst of the hallway, as if they were two people suspended in a single frame of time. Others rushed by without noticing them, as if they were invisible to the naked eyes.

Sakura clutched tautly onto her precious sketchbook until her knuckles turned slightly white. She wanted to look away, but found it hard accomplish that simple task.

Her shoulder was shaking as she struggled to shield away the betraying emotions reflected in her large emerald eyes—the pair of beautiful green eyes that had lost their shine long ago. The child-like innocence and purity disappeared without a trace.

Lowering her gaze, she allowed the auburn locks to escape the hold of her hairclip and fell into her eyes, masking the windows of her soul once again.

"I'll be fine." She replied curtly and kept her eyes on the floor. The words came out husky, but didn't shatter. Her voice didn't break. Her weakness wasn't exposed.

She didn't want to be regarded as the same asylum girl who was considered as a dangerous threat to the security of the society, and someone only wanted to hurt herself. Someone who wasn't welcomed in the world of reality.

"Alright then. Just stay away from them, ne?" Tomoyo asked carefully, not wanting to go too far, but far enough to show Sakura the seriousness of the issue.

She knew that her best friend had changed, from a cheerful, smiling girl to a darker and quieter one. The past several years had passed by too quickly, and the series of tragic events that occurred in Tokyo remained as a mystery.

But regardless of what happened, or how the changes took place. Sakura would always be Sakura, her best friend, and she would always be there for her. She was certain that she could eventually find a way and break through the walls of ice built around her.

She'll find a way, somehow.

A smile formed on her face as Sakura sent her a small nod of acknowledgement.

This was just the beginning of another journey, and no one could really predict the outcome of it. Perhaps the black angel Sakura had told her so much about when they were young could come and shine a stream of light into her darkened, world of gray and mistrusts.

Perhaps he could teach her how the trust, how to believe again. And perhaps, he could bring the smile back to Sakura's beautiful face.

……

As they neared their homeroom, Sakura's sharp ears immediately picked up the indistinctive, overlapping conversations in the room. Biting her bottom lip, she felt her heartbeat fastening as she neared the entrance door which would eventually lead her into her new life at Tomoeda Heights.

She didn't remember how long it had been since the last time she was at a school, in a classroom filled with students like her. In the asylum, she rarely stepped out of her room which was always under the close watch of doctors—a group of strangers wearing white lab coats whose eyes were as cold and apathetic as ice.

They held no sympathies for her, nor had they treat her with the respects she deserved. All they saw was a legally insane person, someone who should be locked up in a white room for the rest of their lives.

Following Tomoyo closely, she allowed her friend to guide her to a nearby seat at the front. Much to her surprise, the students in the class didn't even spare her a glance. She thought they would look at her as an outsider with a disdainful look in their eyes. But they didn't.

Sakura had her head lowered, as she settled down on the seat beside Tomoyo.

"Don't worry Sakura. Everything's in the past now. This is a new start, the beginning of your new life at Tomoeda." Tomoyo's soft words rang in her head as she cast the other a grateful gaze from the corner of her eyes.

It was then the loud ringing of the bell snapped her out of her thoughts. The class quieted down as the ringing resounded in the air, before it was replaced by the sounds of high heels taping against the well-polished ground. The footsteps grew louder by the passing seconds, and slowed down as the person reached the door.

There, Sakura saw a lady in her late-thirties standing gracefully by the door frame. Her poise struck Sakura as nothing but elegant. The white shirt she was wearing complimented her pale skin perfectly and contrasted her dark grey dress pants. But as Sakura's scrutinizing emerald green eyes traveled upward, she saw a clement smile on her face, yet there was something about the smile that seemed rather forged.

"Ohayou gozaimasu minna-san!" She chirped cheerfully as she made her way to the empty teacher's desk at the front of the room. While one of her hands worked to place the pile of paper she was carrying a moment ago, the other brushed the strand of red hair that fell into her eyes.

"Glad to be back to school again?" As she organized her paper and textbook on the desk, she cast a halfheartedly look at the bored students. "Well I hope you all had a great summer. Mine was pretty interesting. My husband and I went to the--" The loud, abrupt intrusion cut her sentence short.

Everyone turned their attention toward the intruders, curious to see who was brave enough to be late on the first day of school and make such grand entrance without worries of receiving detentions. Sakura's eyes widened slightly, revealing her surprise as she recognized that handsome face and pair of distinctive amber eyes.

The two people who were accompanying him, one of them which she recognized to be her kidnapper, and the other spectacled young man was the one who approached her and bothered her about absurd things such as dating a random stranger.

"Late on the first day huh Mr. Li?" A frown graced the teacher's face as the smile waned rapidly, replaced by a mortified look that was torn between disdain and irk. Arms crossed in front of her chest as her hip leaned against the edge of the desk, trying to keep herself composed.

After spending three years with the trouble maker, leader of the school gang Black Wings, she had learned to keep her anger in check. The last thing she needed at the moment was to show him that he had successfully gotten under her skin.

"Gomen ne Sakamoto-sensei." Syaoran apologized, not sounding sorry at all. He casually entered the class with his bag slung over his shoulder, and the other free hand shoved into the pockets of his pants. While the other male students had their ties in the proper place, Syaoran's was no where to be found. The first three buttons of his uniform shirt were left unbuttoned, and his jacket was left open like that.

"Take a seat Mr. Li." Sakamoto-sensei instructed with a dangerous glare flaring in her eyes, her lips were pressed into a thin line as she added "and do it fast," while gritting her teeth. She would've filed a complaint long ago and lobbied to get him expelled from the school, if he wasn't the future leader of the Li Clan.

Syaoran seemed rather nonchalant and unbothered by the fierce glare burned on the back of his head. He disregarded all the intentions of killing and promises worse than death revealed by that simple death glare.

Widening the playful, smugly grin on his lips, Syaoran concluded that it was fun to get under his teacher's skin and humiliate her in front of the entire class.

The woman was known as one of the bossiest teachers in the school, yet when it came to dealing with Li Syaoran, even she was powerless against him. This mere fact made him feel like a winner.

Gazing around, Syaoran noticed that there were only a few empty seats left in the class. He also silently thanked whatever god was watching over him when he noticed there were three seats in the unoccupied row at the far back—a place that he had marked as his territory in the previous year.

"Alright." Sakamoto-sensei clapped her hands together as she put on her unnatural smile again. It was rather obvious that she was trying to put the humiliation behind her and get on with the day. "I could start the day with a lecture on how important this year is to many of you, and how stressful it is going to be, but I'm not going to do that."

Surveying the room for students' reactions, she went on. "Your parents probably have already touched basis on those important things, such as trying your best on the university acceptance exams that you're all going to be writing at the end of this year. So I'm going to start the stressful year with something fun." There was a mischievous glint glimmering in her eyes, as her lips twisted into a strange smile which made the students gulp slightly.

"You guys know my rules. I always start Japanese literature class with in-class essays." She was forced to pause as loud groans filled the room temporarily, upon hearing the most dreadful news ever: in-class essays.

Raising her hands into the air defensively, "hold on. Hold on. Let me finish my sentence first." The stirred class quieted down, with a few intelligible grumbles from the corners ending the commotion.

"But I have changed my mind this year." An exhilarated grin curved on her red, glossed lips as she announced with growing excitements, "you guys are going to write me a poem in 20 minutes about your goals, dreams, using all the literature devices taught to you from the previous years."

A ghastly silence followed as the words traveled through the vibrant air. Her gaze swept across the shocked students who were either gawking at her as if she had grown two heads or doubting the stability of her current mental state.

"Get out your notebook and start writing. The assignment is to be handed in and marked." Sakamoto-sensei said with finality, dismissing the students groans in a cheerful singing voice while an overly saccharine smile stretched across her lips, with sarcastic sweetness dripping off it like honey.

Sakura pulled out a piece of paper from her notebook and stared down at it. The pale blue lines divided the sections into strips, and she realized that those lines were there for her to transform her feelings into words. Tightening her grip around her pencil to a point that any excess force applied to the thin plastic material outer layer would cause it to shatter into small shards.

She ran the topic through her mind again, attempting to find the inspiration for writing that was no where to be found. Sakura was never the writing kind of person. Unlike the poets, her preferred method of expression was painting and sketching. The flow of words and her mind never seemed to click, as if they were phobias of each other.

_Life… and dreams…_ the thought rambled off her mind as she gnawed at the corner of her mouth, furrowing her eyebrows in contemplation. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, her life was dissembled and she wasn't even sure how to put it back together again. The various events occurred in the course of her recent life were something she never wanted to think about. They were better off locked away in the maze of her mind.

_Dreams… _such word had already lost its meaning and value to her. She didn't dare to dream anymore because they could only bring her pain. All that she had was nightmares, haunting memories put on repeat and a mental shock that she never really got over. Despite the fact that the doctors had signed the legal document stating that her mental state was stabilized once again.

What could she possibly write about? That she was a lost child on the road of life, not knowing which route to take and which direction to follow? That she didn't have any goals and didn't see the purpose of her existence? That she hated her life and the person she had become?

"Times up everyone. Put down your pencils or pens." Sakamoto-sensei suddenly announced, breaking the pleasant tranquility that filled the room a moment ago. Sakura jerked her head backward at the abruptness of the declaration.

Blinking hazily for a few times, as if she had just been awakened from a dream and embraced by reality. Her gaze fell upon the blank sheet of paper lying abandoned on her desk.

She hadn't written a word yet.

"Alright, I'm just going to call the first person I see on the attendance list to read their poem." Sakamoto-sensei conveyed while her dark eyes skimmed through the list of names, subconsciously picking out the names that she recognized right away, or hadn't seen before.

"Kinomoto Sakura." She suddenly called out and averted her attention from the list of names and to her students. Glancing around, she sought for the owner of that name.

Sakura was stunned to hear her name and stood up abruptly in response to the call. Her heartbeat escalated within a few seconds, pounding rapidly, chaotically inside of her chest, as if trying to leap out of her throat. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, causing different shades of red to spread across her cheeks.

The teacher shifted her eyes to Sakura and smiled at her. "You must be the new student. I thought your name looked unfamiliar." She commented, although it sounded more like she was talking to herself than to Sakura. "Anyhow, please share your poem with the class."

Sakura stared down at her paper, gulping, enveloped by panic and nervousness. Her hands were trembling and her mind was blank, making improvising nearly impossible.

"Kinomoto-san?" The teacher inquired, quirking an eyebrow as her dark eyes scrutinized the standing girl whom apparently was lost in a world of her own. "Please read your poem to the class." She repeated, louder and clearer this time, as a finger tapped impatiently against her arm. Her eyebrows furrowed disapprovingly at the lack of response.

Syaoran was sitting at the far back. His amber eyes were focused on Sakura and he could sense her discomfort levels rising at a speed that was greater than that of the speed of light. Her small form was quivering, and gave away the impression that she was going to shatter at any moment.

"Watashi wa…" She finally forced out the first word that came into her mind after the long pause, or rather, the first word that sounded logical as the start of a poem. Her voice was soft and quiet. Most of the students were beginning to fidget in their seats as they attempted to listen to her almost silent speech. It was then a girl at the far right corner burst out as the advocate of everyone's discontent.

"Read louder. We can't hear you. Are you mute or something?" The girl jabbed out loud, sending Sakura an exasperated glance. Other students laughed quietly and whispered conspiratorially to the person next to them.

Syaoran frowned at the speaker and glared at her grimly. The girl had a smugly smirk tugging on her glossed lips as she laughed mockingly, dark blue eyes revealing apathy.

Sakura pressed her lips into a thin line. Her eyes were strained upon the paper on her desk and unsure of what to do. The sense of panic was slowly taking over her body and mind. Maybe she shouldn't have come to this place. Maybe she should've just stayed at home.

Who was she kidding here? How could she have believed in her friend's words that she could actually find acceptance here? The shadow of her past would always remain with her. The guilt and pains would always be a burden that she must carry alone, labeling her as the outsider.

She was someone who didn't belong to either worlds.

"I'll read mine if she doesn't want to read hers." A deep, masculine voice spoke from the behind, causing Sakura to widen her eyes and look over her shoulder. There she saw him, her savior: the angel with dark wings.

Those amber eyes sparkled confidence, vehement passions for life.

He possessed all qualities she lacked.

They were two people occupying the different ends of a spectrum.

They were so different that their difference became indifferent and unimportant.

He was a dark angel, whose purpose of existence was to bring salvation to the fallen world.

She was a fallen angel, whose wings were broken and shattered, waiting to be saved.

_Soon she would realize that she needed him more than she could ever imagine… _

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**Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Black Wings**  
_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**------------------------------**

**Chapter Nine**

**------------------------------**

Time has always been perceived as an ever flowing stream of water, never stopping. Akin to the spinning wheel of fortune, it was in perpetual motion.

But to Sakura, the river of time was always frozen in that one single frame of movement, or perhaps her time was flowing much slower than others' that the distinctions were too subtle.

The feeling of being suspended in the space of time always tugged at her heart, where she was just an outsider who could only stand there in the same spot and watch the others being absorbed into what they do.

She could only watch the world change before her eyes, and knowing she could never be part of it.

It was a bitter feeling, but she had learned to accept it a long time ago. Meaningless struggles in life could only worsen her predicament. And sometimes, acceptance was simply the better choice.

Looking down at the blank page of the sketchbook lying in her lap, she tried to put her thoughts together and let her inspiration guide her hand and recreate the fine lines of the image she saw in her mind onto the paper before her.

Green eyes scanning across the page, her talented fingers wrapped themselves around the pencil and started to trace down the invisible lines.

Her bento was lying abandoned on the soft olive green grass beside her. The tree trunk her back was leaning against belonged to a beautiful cherry blossom tree.

The leaves and branches acted as a shield to protect her from the outside world as she concentrated on her drawing, leaving only the gentle, melodious rustling of leaves resonating in the air.

The soft, almost silent scratching sounds created by the strokes of the pencil tip against the paper blended into the sound of the swaying entities. It was the perfect environment for sketching.

Sakura was drawing a uniformed girl standing alone by a cherry blossom tree, watching the world before her. She gave away the appearance of loneliness and fragility.

There was an angel descending down from the heavens on the left side of the picture. His wings were as a rich dark shade that closely resembled the color of coals, tinted slightly silvery by the blinding rays of the sun. He was watching down upon her, like a silent guardian, keeping an eye on the lost soul.

She was once a carefree angel soaring in the sky. But her wings were no longer in tact. They were broken, shattered, and what was left were thousands of white feathers, floating in the mortal realms and forever lost.

The picture was a visual, and metaphorical representation of her life. The haunting image she saw in her mind. It was the truth, the truest of all things. It was the reflection of her feelings, the things she couldn't translate into words, the things she couldn't speak to her father about regardless of how hard she had tried to communicate with him.

She knew he cared a great deal about her, and valued her life more than his own. But she felt there was a thick brick wall separating them. Their worlds had been divided the moment Nadeshiko ended her life.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took her eyes off her half finished sketch and aligned her vision with the heavens above. The sky was as blue as ever, and she could hear the faint, indistinctive laughter reverberating through the air, carried miles away on the careless wind.

It was lunch time after all and most students were sitting in groups with their friends, sharing the exciting stories about their summer and how great their lives were.

Her gaze then fell upon the school building before her and remembered Tomoyo was at choir practice. Apparently, the school choir had high aims this year and wanted to give the national choir competition another shot. This left her alone, once again, on an unfamiliar land that she was supposed to call "home".

Sakura returned her attention to the sketchbook as she tightened her grip around her pencil, determined to finish the sketch while the idea was still fresh in her mind.

Because of her deep concentration, she missed the quiet approaching footsteps until she was tapped on the shoulder by a gentle, warm-emitting hand.

Startled by the sudden contact, her body's first reaction was to flinch and move away from the contact as if it burned. Looking up at the intruder through stunned green eyes, she nearly gasped as she recognized who it was.

It was none other than the owner of those golden amber orbs that tugged at her heart so relentlessly. Forgetting how to breathe, the air she inhaled was caught in her throat as she stared at him.

There was a small grin on his face as he waved a hand at her before sitting himself down onto the soft grass beside her. "Hey." The casual greeting was accompanied by a slightly sheepish grin.

Instead of replying to the greeting with a "hi" or "hello", she simply stared at him as if he had grown two heads.

"You can stop staring at me like that. I'm not a kidnapper or a stalker or a rapist." He commented as he spotted the traces of fear reflecting in her eyes; his voice lacing with the slightest hints of dry sarcasm.

She quickly looked away from him as she realized what she was doing and lowered her head, covering her beautiful green eyes with locks of auburn strands.

Chuckling softly at her reaction, Syaoran leaned back against the rough surface of the tree trunk, tilting his head back until it touched his shoulder. "Don't worry, Hiro and Eriol won't be bothering you anymore." He assured.

She glanced at him in surprise from the corner of her eyes but said nothing, deciding it was better to listen to what he had to say.

A part of her pondered for a reasonable explanation for his being here, since they barely knew each other. Besides, he seemed rather popular among the people in his class and was a rebellious yet charismatic figure that many envied.

Sakura had learned to use her eyes to observe and analyze the things and people around her. It was a way to protect herself. Nadeshiko had taught her how to be observant about things and how to scout for people's intentions after they moved to Tokyo and before the suicide that sent her to the deep abyss of depression.

It was then she realized he was looking at her again, studying her with his sharp golden amber eyes. The gaze burned the areas that came into contact and Sakura felt her face growing warmer by the passing seconds.

Her heartbeat escalated as she gulped nervously. She turned away awkwardly and decided to bury her face into her sketchbook and hopefully he would go away. She didn't like the uneasy feeling of being watched, being scrutinized, and being exposed.

Noticing her discomfort level rising, Syaoran's grin widened. If it was the exit sign for him, he didn't see it.

"Fate is a funny thing eh? We met in the summer and now we are in the same school, and the same class." The somewhat amused murmur reached her ears and Sakura's only response to that was burying her face lower into the sketchbook until it was just inches away.

Syaoran quirked an eyebrow and peered at the opened sketchbook that was interesting enough to receive all of her attentions.

"What are you drawing?" He asked, innate curiosity stirring in him as he leaned toward her. His face was almost inches away from hers as he tried to get a better look at what she was sketching since the girl apparently covered her artwork with her silken auburn hair.

This advancement caused Sakura to tip away from him, attempting to keep the distance between them. Syaoran chuckled again, a hand cupping his face as he scrutinized her from the side way.

"It looks nice. Some kinda angel watching over a little girl eh?" He drawled. To say he was enjoying the reactions she gave to him for every single comment of his would be the biggest understatement of the year.

She was the first girl who ever ignored him, and this mere fact intrigued him to no end.

Grinning, Syaoran decided to enjoy the faint amusement offered before him while it lasted. "How come you are so quiet?" He asked again, not minding the lack of response sent at his way and the vibes of 'leave me alone'.

"You're the quietest girl I've ever met you know that? Why don't you like talking to others? I thought new students were supposed to try to make more friends on the first day of school and somehow blend into the crowd." He continued on, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to her.

"How come you're not with that friend of yours? She seems like the really overprotective kind. But how come she's letting you sit here in this remote area of the school all by yourself? There are molesters lurking around behind the bushes you know…" Trailing off, a triumphant smirk curving on his lips as he saw her froze on the spot.

"But I can offer you protection, Sakura." He offered in a half-jokingly manner, waiting expectantly for her reply, if she ever decided to give him one. A contemplative expression grimacing his face as he inquired. "Your name is Sakura right?" Now staring at her once again, he saw her twitch slightly at the use of her first name.

After a moment of silence between them, she suddenly started to gather up her stuff and lifted herself off the ground before he even had the time to come up with anything else.

She gave him a glance, caught between "what do you want from me" and "please leave me alone", before hurrying away with her head ducked low. Syaoran's eyes trained on her frail profile and gave in a small sigh as he rested his head against the tree trunk.

"Losing your touches eh Syaoran?" A masculine voice inquired lazily, lacing with hints of faint amusement, an indication that he was thoroughly enjoying the sight.

"Oh shut up Eriol." Syaoran didn't need to turn around to see who it was. He knew the other's lazy, silky voice all too well, but not by choice of course.

"I honestly don't see the reason of you talking to that girl. I mean you don't even talk to those hot cheerleaders at our school and yet you are here trying to get some plain, quiet girl's number. Are you sure you're Li Syaoran today?" Hiro crossed his arms and gazed down at Syaoran, while his mind doubted the other's sanity.

"I just find her interesting that's all, and I was _not_ trying to get her number." Syaoran glared at Hiro defensively, feeling slightly offended by the other's speculation.

"Sure, sure we believe you." Eriol dismissed the topic, sounding no where near convinced.

Just when Syaoran was going about to toss a smartass retort at Eriol, another intruder made his grand entrance.

"Li Syaoran, the leader of Black Wings." The title caused Syaoran's jaws to tightened slightly. He tilted his head toward the direction of the caller and narrowed his eyes at the annoying sight of the trios advancing toward them slowly.

The tall, well-built young man with raven hair gelled into small spikes in the middle was the leader of the Bloods. There was an overly smugly smirk on his face that made Syaoran's eyes darken.

"What do you want Katou?" Syaoran demanded with implied harshness.

"A motorcycle race." Katou slanted his head to the right, arms crossed.

Glaring amber eyes bored into the ink-colored orbs for a moment as a suspensive silence washed over them.

"Just don't cry when you lose." The silence was broken as the confident words resounded in the air. The corners of Syaoran's lips lifted into a culled a familiar trademark smirk as he accepted the challenge.

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**Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**-------------------------------**

**Chapter Ten**

**-------------------------------**

The vacant art studio was silent, occupied by busts of various statues and other full sculptures arranged very artistically together.

There were large paintings hanging on the wall, some were recognized to be copies of the most famous artwork by some of the most well-known and respected artists. Mona Lisa's Smile was pinned firmly in place on the side wall with The Last Supper and the oil painting, Venus, by its side.

Sakura surveyed the empty studio for a good place to settle down and spotted the stool by the window. Tightening her hand around the thick strap of the large art binder that was dangling on her side, occasionally clashing into her leg, she headed for the seat which would provide her a good view of the outside if she ever needed to gain inspiration for her artworks.

Placing her art bag on the floor, she allowed it to lean against the stool. She then turned her attention to her art kit and started to set up the necessary equipments.

Sakura was a very organized person and preferred to begin preparation for her favorite class ahead of the others. Tomoyo had told her earlier the art studio was always open and that she could go there whenever she wanted to work on her paintings.

After setting up everything she needed for the class, Sakura stared hazily at the blank page of her school sketchbook that was sitting on the wooden painting stand and immersed herself in the world of arts.

The pencil sketch she finished at lunchtime of that dark angel remained in the back of her head as her artistic mind wondered on about what she should draw for her first art class.

A part of her felt slightly uncomfortable about the upcoming class. Even though Visual Arts was her favorite, she wasn't still unsure if she could deal with her new classmates alone without having Tomoyo by herself to whisper those assuring words to her ears.

This was the only class that differed on their almost identical time table. Tomoyo took Music instead of Visual Arts for her general arts credit.

The loud ringing of the bell startled her and pulled her back to the world of reality. It was the declaration of the beginning of her first afternoon class, and to say that she had a love-hate relationship with it would be the greatest understatement of the year. Shifting nervously in her seat, Sakura ran her tongue over her dried lips and gulped.

Inhaling a large quantity of air, she tried not to think about anything else. After all, Arts was different from her Japanese Literature class. She didn't need to speak up or voice her opinion. All she had to do was to draw.

No self-introduction was required, or at least she hoped it wasn't required. Memories of the embarrassing morning remained fresh in her mind. If it wasn't for that guy, she would be wearing a paper bag over her head right now.

Speaking of him, she remembered his name_. Li Syaoran…_

It was a nice name. It sounded pleasant and special.

The first time she had met him was in the summer, when she was abducted by his two friends out of the blues and given the label of his "birthday present". He had saved her once before and again this morning.

She wasn't sure of his true intentions. The only speculation she could offer that sounded somewhat rational and convincing was: he only helped her because of his guilty conscience.

However it offered no explanation for his sudden approach at lunch. He was practically having a one-sided conversation with himself. Even talking to a tree would be more enjoyable than talking to her.

After ignoring him for a few rounds of questions and no answers, she was almost certain that he would give up. But he didn't.

Instead of looking irritated by her lack of response, he looked rather amused. His reactions made no sense and everything he did was unpredictable. Sakura wasn't great at reading others' minds and she hated interacting with people.

The words believe and trust had lost their meanings a while ago. She could not bring herself to trust anyone anymore after her parents' sudden divorce over the fatal car crash that nearly killed her brother Touya.

He was deprived of his ability to move. Instead of anticipating for the arrival of his bright future, Touya was left in a coma for the rest of his life. He was disabled, and left with an empty shell.

Nadeshiko blamed it on Fujitaka. They fought and yelled, their angry voices carrying miles away on the careless wind. Her family was torn apart. The seemingly perfect marriage of Fujitaka and Nadeshiko ended in a great tragedy. The ending was too imperfect.

Sakura was taken away right after the divorce and went to Tokyo to hope for a better future, but the trip to Tokyo was only the commencement of her new life—the beginning of the series of inevitable, unfortunate events that happened like a chained reaction.

Nothing in her life was going right. Her childish and innocent dreams were shattered one by one. Her life took an unexpected turn, and she could only watch it spin out of control in impotence. There was very little one could do when fate was playing foully.

She had kept this silence ever since she left Tomoeda for Tokyo, and throughout her stay at the asylum. People had grown used to her silent presence. They were so used to her silence to a point that they completely forgot about her being there.

She was invisible to many's eyes and she liked it that way. It was her quiet lifestyle as a loner—someone who was faded and unnoticeable to naked eyes.

The sudden excess attention she received from Syaoran was startling to her at first. They barely knew each other and as far as she was concerned, he was one of the most popular guys at Tomoeda Heights. He didn't need someone like her to be in his life.

Tomoyo mentioned his popularity in one of their one-sided conversations and she could see it now, more clearly than ever even though it was only her first day here.

Girls in her classes were throwing themselves at him, tossing their hair, showing off their undergarments to him as they desperately attempted to get his attention. Some even went as far as touching his hand and arms.

But he seemed so uninterested in them. She wondered why. The girls were quite pretty and attractive, and it was unusual for a guy to be able to resist such temptations. But he did. And Sakura was more than just surprised.

But she was more stunned when he approached her today while he could be doing many other things with his life. She never responded to any of his questions and pretended he didn't exist for the duration of the conversation. If she didn't walk away from him today, he probably would have rambled on, babbling away about the most random things.

She didn't know what he wanted from her. Perhaps he saw her as a challenge of some sort, for being the first girl who ever ignored him. She knew he didn't have any romantic interest in her. The look in his eyes gave it away.

Then what was it?

For all she knew, he was a wild gang leader, a motorcycle racer, the most popular and wanted guy at Tomoeda Heights. He was everything that she wasn't. He was the exact opposite of her.

He appeared to be such a stereotypical high school prince kind of guy and supposed to be simple to comprehend. Yet she found it hard to understand him. One minute he was doing this and the other minute he was doing something else totally different. It was hard to predict what he plans to do next.

He was just that complex. He always managed to surprise her with the things he do, and whenever she tried to sort out the events and find something logical about them, she always ended up confusing herself even more.

"Hey Sakura." The familiar voice intruded upon her contemplation and caused her to jump slightly off her tool. Sakura looked over her shoulder to see who it was, and eyes widened instantly as she recognized who it was.

The sight of that rare amber color—the most beautiful mixture of gold and amber and hazel red she had ever seen—tugged at her relentlessly. It was the second time he had appeared randomly next to her with that content, standard boyish grin on his face.

He was always happy and she wondered if anything ever got him sad before. The content grin remained unwavering as he took a seat beside her, dumping his backpack on the ground carelessly.

"How come you always stare at me like that?" He studied her curiously, cocking his head to the right. After receiving no answers from him, he turned to his bag and went on.

"Anyway, what a coincidence, we're in the same art class!" The sudden exclamation came out random and abrupt.

"I know I'm passing this class for sure." He muttered to himself happily and Sakura could only stare at in as if he had grown two heads.

"I had to choose between the two arts related courses. But since I didn't want to kill off anyone's hearing with my off-tune singing, I thought Visual Arts could be a better choice of the two." He rambled on as his eyes spotted her neatly placed art kit.

"Wow you came prepared." He looked impressed.

Sakura eyed her working site idly and shrugged a little.

"Now I don't have to worry about bringing my art kit. Don't have that much space in my bag to carry all those things." He slung a hand around her casually like he usually did with his buddies and grinned gleefully as if the world couldn't get any better than this.

Sakura instantly flinched at the contact and pushed his hand away, looking mortified and offended.

He gave her a somewhat puzzled look but shrugged it off as he turned to take out a piece of paper and placed it on his wooden stand, minding none of the looks she was casting at him.

"ne Sakura, can I borrow one of your brushes?" He suddenly asked, turning around to face her. He seemed so unbothered by the awkward moment that just fleeted by between them.

Sakura blinked a few times and grabbed the paint brush closest to her fingers and handed it to him.

"Thanks a lot!" was the only thing she received from him before the teacher entered the class. It was then she realized that the class was about to begin and the previously empty art studio was already filled with students. They must have had stepped into the room when her attention was focused on him.

"Good afternoon everyone! I will be your Visual Arts teacher for the rest of the nine months and I hope I'll be able to remember all of your names by the end of this week." The teacher smiled brightly.

He had short honey auburn hair and clear blue eyes like cutting diamonds closed into a line. The corners of his lips were always curved into a graceful, gentle smile. He wasn't like her Japanese Literature teacher. His smile seemed real and heartfelt.

"My name is Fuji Syuusuke, and you can address me as Fuji-sensei." He introduced himself briefly as he ambled across the room, smiling pleasantly at students.

"And we'll begin today by sketching this statue…" His soft words trailed off, evaporated into the air as he walked over to pull off the white sheet that was covering the said statue.

"The statue of the Dark Angel." He announced and a few students sitting at the front gasped at the statue of a soaring angel.

"I'm sure many of you have heard of the popular legend that one day, when the world is ending, an angel with black wings would come and bring salvation to the dying world. He obeys no one's commands. He belongs to neither hell nor heaven." Fuji-sensei's voice was even and steady as he explained, eyes looking up at the statue; a flicker of nostalgia shining in his blue eyes.

Sakura's eyes traveled down the Dark Angel's face and down to his well-built body and then to his strong black wings. Her mother's words echoed in her ears.

"And I thought angels all work for God." The beautiful tranquil moment was broken by the gruff whisper. Sakura jerked her head to her left and found herself staring into the bright amber eyes full of inquisition.

"What? Don't all angels work for God? How come this one doesn't?" He gave her an isn't-it-obvious look and mumbled as his mind pondered, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to her. He reminded her of a child.

"I can't see how a black winged angel can ever save the world. I bet when some meteoroid collide with the earth, we'll all be dead before we can even catch a glimpse at this dark angel." He speculated, offering his rather blunt opinion on the legendary dark angel.

"Now class, you may begin your pencil sketch of the statue first. While you're sketching, I will be coming around to every one of you and approve your pencil sketch. After receiving my approval, you may begin your oil painting of the statue and that will be your first assignment for this class." Fuji-sensei explained and brightened his smile as his way of signaling the commencement of the work period.

Sakura took out her pencil kit and carefully picked out the pencil with the right shade and started her sketch. Excitement thudded loudly in her heart as she occasionally spared a few fleeting glances at the statue before her, trying to capture every single detail of the dark angel.

She had been drawing images of this dark angel for as long as she could remember. Yet none of her previous work ever appeared right to her. Something was always missing but she didn't know what.

The quiet room was surrounded by a pleasant tranquility again. The only sound detectable by their ears was the sound of pencils scratching the surface of papers. Sakura was so focused on her work that she almost didn't near the soft approaching footsteps of Fuji-sensei.

"It is a very beautiful and accurate sketch of the Dark Angel." The compliment caught Sakura off guard. She instantly tilted her face toward Fuji-sensei who was standing behind her smiling cheerfully. "Good work Kinomoto-san." He looked over his attendance sheet and found her name.

"You may start your oil painting now." He gave her his permission before turning to Syaoran who was sitting right beside her. Fuji-sensei scrutinized the sketch in the making for a moment and looked slightly perplexed. He inclined his head to study the art work from a different angle, but it led him to the same conclusion as before.

"Li-kun," he spoke softly, his voice smooth and velvety. "It is a very nice sketch, but keep in mind that you should be recording down what your eyes see and not what you think you see. But when we get to the next unit, you will be able to use your imagination more and create images using your mind." Fuji-sensei paused for a moment, letting the words sink into the young artist's mind before continuing on.

"The only part that needs to be fixed right now is the right shading of the shadows on the statue's face. Perhaps Kinomoto-san can assist you on that task." Fuji-sensei suggested, looking down at Sakura. "It is a great sketch nonetheless and you can start the oil painting soon after this." Fuji-sensei smiled before strolling toward the next student.

Syaoran held his chin and gazed at the sketch in front of him, a thoughtful expression gracing his face as he tried to figure out what he did wrong.

Sakura sighed silently and leaned forward to Syaoran's side with her pencil and started to add in the right shades to the face of the Dark Angel. Syaoran watched her hand move carefully with delicacy and found himself mesmerized by the slow transition his sketch undertook with her help.

She stopped right then and passed the pencil to him, her other hand pointing at the sketch, a gesture for him to follow what she just did. Syaoran took the pencil from her hand prudently and gazed down at it for a moment before shading in the area needed cautiously for the fear of ruining the work she had just done.

Sakura watched him imitating her previous movements and couldn't help but frown when she realized that he wasn't using his pencil properly. This stirred the Leonardo Da Vinci in her.

Before she could even realize what she was doing, her hand fell upon his as she tried to adjust the positioning of his fingers around the pencil. "Try holding it this way." The words rolled off the tip of her tongue, sounding foreign to her own ears.

She stopped on track as her ears picked up her own soft whisper. She turned around stiffly as she felt a familiar pair of eyes on her. And what came into her sight was a stunned gape from him. His jaws were dropped as he gawked at her with disbelief written all over his face. At that moment, she almost thought it was worth the look on his face.

He quickly stopped staring at her like a fish with its mouth open but fell silent for a while. Soon his eyes softened a little as he carefully allowed the words to roll of his tongue. "You're actually talking…" Sakura quirked an eyebrow at him, and gave him a yes-I-am-aware-of-that-thanks-for-stating-the-obvious look.

The boyish grin was back to his lips again as he shrugged the awkwardness off.

"Wow, your sketch is really good!" He complimented as his eyes fell upon her sketchbook, sounding quite impressed by what he was seeing.

"Mine looks pale in comparison. I think the only similarities our sketches share are: two wings and the figure of a person, and that's about it." He laughed softly, pointing out the crappiness of his own work.

The corners of her lips lifted slightly at the moment but that was all. The distinction was very subtle.

While they continued to work on their sketches, two pairs of eyes were watching them closely. One of the girls sneered coldly, her dark blue eyes revealing disdain.

She was the same girl who gave Sakura an exasperated look in Japanese Literature class earlier today and complained about the quietness of her voice.

"Meiling, did you see that girl flirting with Syaoran? _Your _Syaoran! _Your fiancé!_" She huffed, emphasizing on the last few words.

The girl with long, ink-colored hair made no attempt to respond to the question. Rather, she simply watched Sakura with icy, slightly narrowed ruby red eyes, lips thinning into a line.

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Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored.


	11. Chapter 11

**Black Wings  
**By: Aisaki Sumi

**---------------------------------**

**Chapter Eleven**

**--------------------------------**

He was persistent.

Sakura drew out the conclusion while she poked the fried shrimps in front of her, neatly piled on a layer of rice in her bento.

It was lunch time once again, her favorite time of the day. It was the only time she had to get away from it all—from the world around her and find a quiet sanctuary of her own, where she could be herself and paint the pictures of her heart, and of her mind.

The cherry blossom tree had become her special "hangout place" lately. It offered her a peaceful tranquility that she rarely found anywhere else.

Surrounded by serenity and the constant melodious rustling of leaves, inspiration came with ease and drove her to finishing a numerous numbers of sketches for her art projects.

However, it hadn't been the case lately and Sakura was beginning to ponder on the exact geography of the school and whether or not it had another remote place such as this one.

Feeling slightly annoyed and uncomfortable about her current predicament, the only thing she could do was to poke her food with the pointy end of her chopsticks and listen to Syaoran babbling away about the least interesting things. Parties, motorcycle races, and many other illegal things that she didn't want to hear about.

While she was bothered by the personal things he was sharing with her, he seemed as if the world could not get any better than this. The grin was perpetually attached to his face. Sakura was almost sure that if the wind had changed directions, his face would stay stuck that way.

Either way, she listened quietly while she silently prayed for him to leave her alone.

"And so we ended up getting drunk and partying on the streets until the patrolling officers came. Sadly the party had to end since neither of us wanted to get a ticket for causing _public disturbance_." She heard him say, grumbling out the last few words with grudge.

She could almost hear him rolling his eyes without even looking up once.

A moment of silence followed as his words resounded in the air. Sakura almost forgot to breathe when she felt the suddenly risen tension between them.

Shifting uncomfortably, she heard a soft rustling of fabrics and felt a pair of intensive amber eyes training on her, fixed upon her only. It was so focused that she was sent to a panicking state by the amount of attention she was receiving.

She didn't enjoy being the center of one's attention. Rather, she enjoyed being invisible and transparent to naked eyes. It made her feel safe and protected in a way.

But now, all the protections were taken away; all the layers she used to hide herself were being striped away one by one until the real Sakura was being revealed.

"How come you never talk?"

The sudden query made her blink blankly a few times. She paused for a moment. Eyebrows furrowed into a contemplative frown as she pondered on the answer to the question.

In truth, she didn't really know. She had stopped talking years ago. Silence was a more preferable companion than sounds of empty words of comfort and assurance. It offered more truth, more honesty.

"And don't tell me that it's because you can't talk." He immediately crossed out the first excuse that came into her mind.

"I heard you speaking in Art Class yesterday, and even though you only said three words, that still counts as talking." He recollected as he placed a finger underneath his chin, looking thoughtful as he nodded in agreement with himself.

"You shouldn't be shy when it comes to interacting with others. It's not like you're a freak and had a strangely deep manly voice or anything." He paused before adding, "Your voice is nice."

Sakura stopped on track as the compliment registered in her head. The chopstick that was going to nudge her vegetable over was frozen in a frame of movement--an inch away from her food.

Her clouded eyes stared down at her bento, looking without actually seeing. Her heart rate increased a little, but just slightly. The distinction was almost too subtle to be accounted as any difference.

He looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to reply again. Even a hand gesture was enough to light his face up at that moment. But she kept her silence, eyes gazing at anything but him. And it was becoming a bit frustrating. Just a bit. But he was still determined to figure this enigmatic girl out.

Giving up was never a part of his vocabulary.

He had been coming to this cherry blossom tree every lunch since the first art class they had together, greatly to her annoyance and wondered if he would ever give up on trying to get another word out of her.

Tomoyo was never around at lunch. She had choir practice, student council meetings and organizing events for the photography club since she was the club manager. Her lunch was usually booked.

She couldn't blame Tomoyo for being so involved with these extracurricular activities. Tomoyo had always been the popular one even when they were in elementary school.

She felt a small gap between them back then, caused by the large difference between their social status in the school and as well by their personalities.

A few years ago, she wasn't as silent and solemn as she was now, but she wasn't loud or active either. She was just enough to be around the average line. She was just _acceptable_.

But now, she could feel the gap widening and watch Tomoyo distancing away from her.

Perhaps one day it would be enough to break free from the force that was binding them together. Perhaps one day, the other would leave her behind and move on with her life and pursue something greater.

She couldn't possibly depend on Tomoyo, or become too attached to the other's accompany.

Everyone had a different path that they must follow, a dream they want to chase after, and a destiny that was decided before their birth.

Sakura had already accepted what life has offered her. She didn't dare to dream for the impossible. It was better to keep her ideas as realistic as possible and work with what she had.

But sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder, where was this life leading her toward? The dark angel that she had heard so much about—the one who was going to set her free and bring her, her long sought happiness?

She didn't know. As she pondered further, she found herself gazing into the warm amber eyes, emanating such brilliancy and passions for life.

"Are you always like this? Ignoring the others and tuning out, looking so lost in your thoughts?" He waved a hand in front of her eyes. The innocent, almost child-like curiosity she saw in those pools of amber caused her heart to pound faster than usual.

Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were widened with surprise as she continued to blink dumbfoundedly, trying to sort out the logics of how and why were they in the position they were in.

His face was just inches away from her. She could feel his warm, moistened breath beating against her cheeks. The faint warmth dissipated as soon as they contacted her porcelain cheeks, leaving a tingly, lingering sensation behind.

Sakura felt the pervasive warmth spreading out on her face.

Apparently, he decided to invade her personal space after receiving no response of any sort from her for the past ten minutes. She should have given him some credit for coming up with the brilliant plan of jumping in front of her out of the blues and stare at her with his face just inches away from hers.

The pigments of his irises were clearer than ever now she noticed. Red encompassing golden amber mixed with hints of hazel.

He had successfully gained her undivided attention.

They remained in that position for a moment too short to be realized but long enough to be felt as an eternity. The world seemed to have faded away ambiguously as the two searched for the beautiful souls they saw in those fleeting moments. All the glimpses they caught that tugged at their hearts relentlessly. They might not have realized it yet, but would soon enough comprehend it.

It was then the sudden loud ringing of the school bell snapped them out of their own world, where time was frozen in that one single frame, where reality was just a mere illusion that was faded and eventually forgotten.

The ringing echoed in the air thick of emotions, doubts, uncertainties, hesitancies and much more.

Feeling the sense of reality returning to her, she acted upon impulse and pushed him aside as far away from her as possible.

She abruptly flipped her barely touched bento closed and placed it into her lunch bag along with the chopsticks. Her working hands felt awkward and her mind was spinning as she finished packing up her things at a speed that was almost too fast for her brain to process.

Lifting herself off the ground hurriedly, barely retaining her balance as she held on tightly to her precious sketchbook that never left her side, while her other freehand carried her bag.

The brisk wind that whirled by blew against her almost frail profile, tossing her hair about messily around her delicately shaped face.

She strode forward as fast as possible, ducking her head low as she tried to escape the awkwardness she felt a moment ago, and the wisps of his scent that lingered still in the air.

She wanted to get away from it all, from the source of her discomfort and also the one that made her traitorous heart pound almost hopefully.

Just as she attempted to scamper away from the cherry blossom tree, she felt a strong hand holding her back. His grasp was firm and halted her into a stop. Shocked beyond belief, Sakura twisted around, unintentionally aligning their visions once again.

He leaned forward, bringing a hand up to her cheek, tapered fingers barely contacting the smooth creamy skin as they swiftly slid up her face to the few auburn locks that swayed to the direction of the wind. Sakura flinched at the unexpected gentle touches that felt tingly, as if numbed by the sparks of electricity formed upon the contact.

A gentle, relent smile tugging at his lips as he removed the leaf that clung to her hair. She saw the corners of his lips curving upward slightly right then, slowly widening into a grin that was caught between a small smirk and a smile.

"A leaf." He stated as he let go of the said object, allowing it to be carried miles away on the carelessly wind.

Sakura simply stood there and gawked at him, watching the small leaf drifting so weightlessly through the air in swirls and eventually disappearing from her sight. His voice was soft yet resonating she realized, barely heard but producing endless echoes in her mind.

Breaking their eye contact with great difficulty, she managed to swerve around hastily and walked away before she could find herself involuntarily lost in the rare beauty of his eyes again, unmatched by any other.

The last thing she needed was to become attracted to him, even in the least ways.

……

Sakura's jaw tightened as she felt another flying object colliding with her back. Snapping her eyes close just temporarily, she told herself to breathe in and out and to ignore the crumbled paper tossed at her way every five seconds.

It was her favorite class after all, and she came here to paint, to let the quiet artist in herself out, not to be irked by the notes thrown at her way.

Fuji-sensei had assigned them into different groups, painting different statues at the same time just to ease the boringness of everyone creating identical images.

She was put into a group of four and their assignment for this particular class was to paint the image of theRoman Goddess of Love, Venus, while Syaoran was assigned to another group to paint Mars, the God of War.

Her grip around her paint brush tightened as she felt a bigger object crashing into her back, constantly distracting her from concentrating on her work. To say this annoyed her would be the greatest understatement of the year.

"Just pick it up Sakura." She heard his instruction, slight irritation and frustration lacing his voice.

Sighing in defeat, she bent down reluctantly to pick up the closest crumbled paper ball and flattened it out on her lap.

On the lined paper, she saw neat hiragana and kanji printings and it read. _Come to the motorcycle race today after school. Black Wings and Bloods are going to battle out a winner and loser._

Sakura frown a little as she bit her lower lip, pondering who the Bloods were since she already knew that Black Wings was a gang led by none other than the person who was throwing all these notes at her.

Her contemplation was cut short as she saw Fuji-sensei approaching her group. Panicking a bit, she quickly shoved the note into her bag and picked up her paint brush again.

However her mind was no longer with the task she was performing, but wondering of what the motorcycle match would be like. She wasn't really interested in what he did with his spare time, but it would be a lie to say that the motorcycle race didn't obtain a small part of her interest.

Perhaps she'll go and watch.

But if he throws another paper ball or paper plane at her, she would move her work station elsewhere where those random flying objects could not reach her and ignore him for the rest of her life.

……

Loud cheering and clamors saturated the once empty track field which was now crowded with excited and interested students.

All eyes were trained on the two figures occupying the two racetracks in the center. Syaoran's red motorcycle was exceptionally bright under the shower of golden rays, giving away the impression of a burning phoenix, ready to aim high for the sky.

Syaoran was more than just ready. Helmet in place, flaming red jacket with his gang symbol drawn on the back.

Amber eyes had a rare serious glint—an indication of passions and pride and intention on winning the race like he always did. His upper body was lowered to a position that would reduce the maximum amount of air resistance.

His motorcycle roared like a lion, as if announcing the presence of a lion—a king, defending his throne from foolish challengers.

Syaoran's gaze quickly swept across the crowd, his face lighting up into a beam, a radiant confident grin as he saw his gangs and other supporters who idolized him cheering as loud as possible for him.

But the grin widened with traces of surprise as he spotted a timid form standing in the middle of the crowd.

_She came after all._

Returning his attention to the racetrack, he narrowed his eyes in concentration as he watched the two girls standing on the side waving the bright red and blue stripped flag.

It signaled the start of the thrilling race.

Syaoran dashed out like a gust of violent wind, with only one goal set in mind, and that was to cross the finish line like a true champion.

While he tried to stay focused on the race, Katou tried a number of times to knock him off his motorcycle, but his every single failed attempt only added onto Syaoran's determination to win.

Speeding up, Syaoran ducked his body lower. The wind howled in his ears, almost deafening him.

The finish line was within his reach he realized as he squinted, peering through the bright lights.

Pulling up his motorcycle as he raced passed the finish line, like a golden phoenix in flight. He heard cheers, voices of his friends and gang members—all those who crowned him as their leader, the king of Tomoeda Heights.

Syaoran took off his helmet, allowing the soaked chestnut locks to sway with the wind. The gentle, butterfly-light touches of the cool, refreshing breeze trailed along his perspired skin.

The feeling was soothing and soul-calming.

Eriol and Hiro were the first ones to rush up to him, patting him on the back as they congratulated him on another win. The cheerleaders standing on the side danced and jumped as high as they could, and screamed out his name at the top of their lungs.

The smirk of confidence quirked on his lips as he turned to surveyed his surroundings. But as his eyes traveled across the large crowd to find that familiar face, his grin waned as he came into a realization.

_She was no longer there. _

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**Reviews are always appreciated. Flames and stupid comments will be ignored from now on. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

_-------------------------------_

**Chapter Twelve**

**------------------------------**

Painting to artists was akin to weaving stories. Each image painted by an artist reveals an emotion—a feeling of that fleeting moment too quick for untrained eyes to realize but to painters, they are a mirror reflection of people's life.

Every picture tells a story. It could be about a person, or a place, or it could simply be just about anything.

That was what Sakura liked about paintings. She enjoyed creating stories with her paint brush. Each talented stroke left upon the blank page represented a small part of the story. It gave her the feeling of superiority—being able to weave people's lives with her magical brush like the spinning wheel of fate.

But during instances such as this one, where inspiration and ideas were running low, Sakura found painting almost frustrating in a sense.

Sighing in heavy aggravation, she ruffled her hair roughly and stared down at the sketch in progress with strong dislike and dissatisfaction. Nothing was right about this particular piece.

She had been attempting to recapture the breathtakingly beautiful image of that moment where the red motorcycle fleeted pass the finishing line with honor and pride. It stirred the artistic genius in her. Almost like a phoenix in light, it challenged her into capturing that spectacular moment on paper.

Crescent shaped eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she closed the sketchbook in a snap, producing an echoing sound in her quiet , dimly lit room. She sank deeper into her chair, head slanted backward until it touched the frame of the back of the chair, eyes seeing pass the grayish looking plain ceiling with a blank mind filed with nothing but emptiness.

Recollecting, she vaguely remembered the events of the past two days. She hadn't left her room since Friday afternoon, right after his match ended.

The beautiful image she saw in that split second tugged at her heart so relentlessly that she even forgot to wait for Tomoyo after school by the gates so they could stroll down the cherry blossom street together.

Ever since then, all she did was sketching, trying her best to recreate what her eyes saw. But none of her sketches looked right, or was even close to being right. This fact irked her to no end.

Blinking absentmindedly at the blur of white mixed in dark gray hue and the mild shadowing of her ceiling by the uneven distribution of light Sakura let out a small sigh.

Perhaps she should leave this inspiration draining room and search for the lost, slowly evanescing light that acted as the guidance of her artistic ideas.

Reaching a decision, Sakura pushed herself off the seat with a slight bit of reluctance and indolency. She grabbed her sketchbook along with her art bag of which contained her other set of equipment and moved away from her studying desk.

She crossed the room swiftly in a few steps and slammed the door close carelessly. Like a water ripple in the pond, the sound slowly emanated from a single source and dissipated into the thin air moments later as if it was never there.

……

Syaoran sat by the window of their secret base, amber eyes staring at the distant cherry blossom tree, watching the leaves in freefalls as they drifted in a lazy swirl. Just like that, two weeks of school had passed by. And soon enough, the season would be arriving rapidly on wintry wings.

Everything in these days reminded him of a part of her, and Syaoran reflexively blamed it on hanging out with the quiet artist too much. Her pessimistic perceptive on life and everything else was beginning to rub off on him. Her philosophies, believes and feelings were expressed wordlessly through her artwork.

Her life was like an enigma, a maze, filled with hidden depth and locked doors, concealing the stories and secrets that no one knew of. This mere fact intrigued him so greatly that it was beyond his mind's comprehension.

It was almost obsessive in a sense one could argue and he could just imagine the smugly look on Eriol's face every time the other caught him sparing a fleeting glance at the quiet girl.

It even surprised him at first how he looked forward to lunchtime and Visual Art class everyday since she spoke her first few words to him, and how he had enjoyed being in her silent presence.

Their relationship hadn't progressed much however. She still ignored him most of the times, pretending that he never existed and that it was only the wind talking nonsense.

It always made him grin to see her grimacing at his random comments and how she would spare him a dry look every now and then when he cracked jokes about her antisocial personality and sexuality. Her reactions truly amused him to no ends.

The look she cast him the other day when he asked if she liked girls better than guys made all his seemingly failed attempts almost worth it.

Some said he was just wasting his time with a girl like her. Some even proposed that if he wanted a girlfriend that badly, he could just snap his fingers and a line of the hottest girls at their school would line up in front of him, waiting anxiously for him to set his amber eyes on them. But very few knew that he perceived those girls as nothing but bubbleheads.

He would not deny the fact that Sakura wasn't pretty. She wasn't even close to being pretty. Always wearing an over-sized gray sweater and skirt that went past her knees, she might as well label herself as the most conserved girl at Tomoeda.

But there was something about her simplicity and hidden elegancy that captured his attention the first time they met.

_You're attracted to her._ He remembered Eriol's statement, kindly pointing out the fact that was obvious to everyone else except Syaoran himself.

_I'm not._ His mind stubbornly denied, growling at the fact that Eriol was being his usual manipulative self again, desperately trying to pair him up with anyone from the female population.

_Then you're the worst liar I've ever met. _

The soft velvety voice was harshly taunting at the same time, resonating in the silently reverberating air surrounding him.

Syaoran was sure that he wasn't attracted to her. Rather, he was never attracted to her but simply intrigued. As a matter of fact, he was certain that he was quite capable of distinguishing his own feelings and state of mind. And Syaoran didn't need anyone to explain his _own_ feelings to him.

"Oi Syaoran, your cousin just phoned my cell and said that your mom needs to speak to you about some important family business." The familiar gentle voice that carried an implicit mockery ringed in his ears.

Syaoran inclined his head a bit and turned to an angle that was enough for him to see who the intruder upon the pleasant tranquility was.

"Oh." Was all Syaoran could say. He paused there for a moment, digesting the information before getting up slowly with great reluctance.

Nothing good would ever come out of those serious small talks with his mother. He could second-guess what she wanted to speak to him about, probably something along the lines of his behavior in public and the inappropriateness of his life style.

Reaching the exit, he was halted into a stop by Eriol. "Syaoran," the other said with a definite seriousness in his tone, "next time, tell Meiling to phone your cell phone instead of mine. I know you hate that girl, but she's still your cousin and fiancé you know."

Cringing at the mentioning of Meiling, Syaoran looked over his shoulder and sent Eriol a shut-up glare before stepping out of their secret base.

The first thing that greeted him was the brisk wind of autumn.

Syaoran liked the feeling of the cool and slightly crisp air blowing against his face. The smell of mustiness of the air. The dead leaves crackling softly under his sneakers. The sight of falling leaves, all painting a scene which was almost like a picture dream, vague and full of rich colors that warmed the heart.

Ambling over to the red motorcycle parked by the cherry blossom tree that was no longer blossoming like it once did in spring. He kicked away the leaves his in path with a type of vague awareness. Dead leaves fluttered in the air before him, dancing jovially to an unheard tune of a season's end.

Summer was no longer present.

Looking up at the pale blue sky, tinged slightly gray, he remembered the oil painting of autumn he saw in art class the other day.

Fuji-sensei had decided to display their artwork on the wall, placed side by side with the most famous paintings of the renaissance. While everyone else's portrayal of autumn was colorful, embraced by a sense of joy and harvesting. Sakura's painting was hauntingly beautiful.

It portrayed the other side of life, and Syaoran felt himself mesmerized by such rare beauty. He had never been more aware of the transition between autumn and summer than he was now.

Maybe Eriol was right.

Maybe he was attracted to her just in a way that even he couldn't recognize.

……

Sakura sauntered down the unknown streets aimlessly, searching for her lost inspiration from advertisement signs that were all too unfamiliar to her. She tried to go to the penguin park which she thought was only a part of her vaguely remembered childhood memories, but found nothing inspiring.

It was then she decided to take another route and explore the other side of the town that she had never been to before.

Sakura rarely paid attentions to where she was going, and always let her innate curiosity guide her way. It wasn't the wisest decision, and she had to learn it the hard way as she found herself lost in a dark alley.

Surveying her surroundings, she saw a large garbage dumpster on the side of the almost dirty side of the building. Everything was so silent that the sounds produced by her shoes against the hard concrete ground sounded exceptionally loud to her ears.

She could even hear her own uneven breathing and frantic heartbeats as if there was a game of ping pong taking place right inside of her chest. Gulping a little, she continued down the path, taking every single step with prudence as if her life was depending on it.

She nearly flipped when she heard a grunt of pain, a loud thud and followed by a loud outburst of a series of profane words that caused her to cringe as a natural response to the bluntly explicit choice of expression.

Thoughts of doubts and arousing fear raced through her mind at the speed of light. Her heart escalated, thudding loudly inside of her as if it wanted to leap out of her throat.

Maybe it wasn't too late for her to turn around and scamper away for her own safety. But a part of her wanted to stay to see what was going on. Instead of turning back right then, Sakura took another step forward and closed her distance with the source that stirred her innate curiosity.

Hiding herself behind the dumpster site she previously spotted, she poked out her head and took a peek while trying hard to ignore the disgusting smell of what seemed like rotten fruits. The position she was in wasn't enough to expose her to danger but was enough to provide her with a clear view of the target of her interest.

Three were on the floor, groaning in pain and only one was standing she noted.

Her emerald green eyes widened with shock as she recognized the young man standing in the center of the large opening. His unique red jacket was too bright to be ignored.

The breathe she inhaled in a moment ago was now caught in her throat as she continued to watch with disbelief.

It was then she noticed that he was holding a metallic bar. The other end was pointed at another young man lying on the ground, grunting in pain. Sakura squinted slightly to peer through the blinding lights.

His familiar face soon registered in her mind as the boy who raced against Syaoran the other day and lost at the end. Katou was his name she remembered, or assumed anyway since a section of the crowd was cheering loudly for him at the race.

However she didn't recognize the other boy who was wearing a similar jacket as Katou but speculated him to be a member of the Bloods on reasonable grounds. Gnawing at the corner of the mouth, her sweaty palm pressed hard against the cool surface of the dumpster can.

_What were they doing? Sparring?_ It was the first question that popped into her head, demanding to be answered.

"You're a coward you know that Katou? And I thought you were better than this." Sakura heard Syaoran sneer scornfully, those amber eyes were no longer warm and gentle as she remember, but they were colder and filled with strong distain.

There was a trail of blood near the corner of his lips and a bruise on his jaw Sakura noticed suddenly, feeling her own chest tightening at that sight.

"So what are you going to tell your little friends now? I just lost to the leader of Black Wings in an unfair three against one match, or should I say, we tried our carefully planned surprise attack on him but he still beat the crap out of us?" Syaoran taunted, mimicking him as he lowered the metallic bar until it was inches away from Katou's face.

His harsh, almost hateful glare pierced through Katou like a thousand pins striking a surface, leaving painful, but invisible wounds beyond. Those words hurt Katou's pride and Sakura could tell from the way his lips were twisted into that deadly, dangerous snarl, which held promises of death and something more.

Just then, she saw him looking pass Syaoran for a brief moment and at his companion who was lying a few meters away from him. The other gave him a nod of comprehension as an indication that he had got the message his leader was trying to pass to him through that one quick glance embedded with unsaid words.

"So what are you going to do now Li Syaoran? Beat me up with that metal bar and carry my dead body around to show that you have won?" Katou jeered provocatively, dark eyes glinting a hint of mockery and challenge as he suddenly grabbed onto the cool metal bar.

Syaoran was surprised by Katou's sudden action and loosened his grip around the metal bar for just that one split of a second. But it was enough to be a distraction that could potentially cause him everything. In this short duration, his guard was down and provided the attacker the perfect chance to strike.

He had failed to sense the person approaching him from his behind with a Swiss blade in hand.

"Behind you!" Sakura abruptly screamed on the top of her lungs in horror without realizing she had just done so. Her brain had stopped working the moment where she spotted the glimmering blade under the pale sunlight.

She didn't know where she mustered the courage from or how she had found her voice again. But the determination of preventing another person from getting hurt before her eyes again was strong and it generated enough force to break the chains she tied around herself, and the promises she made silently to never be involved in anything else ever again.

The call hauled Syaoran out of his own thoughts and his quick reflexes kicked in as he forced his body to move out of the way. The blade that aimed at his back to pierce through his heart slid along his arm instead, barely missing its target point. It was a very close call. If he hesitated another moment, the blade would have punctured his heart.

Blood gushed out of the wound, dying the gray concrete ground scarlet red. It mixed with the dusts of the street, altering its bright scarlet red color into something close to the color of black.

Sakura's jaws dropped to the ground. The sketchbook she was holding a moment ago fell loose from her grasp and landed hard onto the ground.

She watched him covering his wound with his other free hand quickly to stop the bleeding, but it was no use.

The blood continued to rush out of the freshly cut long wound that trailed down his entire arm. The blood dyed his jacket to an even darker shade of red, soaking it entirely.

His sleeve was now ripped into half, exposing part of his wound. Sakura felt her heart stop beating right then as she caught a glimpse of it and realized how severe it was.

Katou and the other Bloods' member scrambled off the ground and took out their other weapons as well. Their plan was obvious as they proceeded carefully toward the fallen dark angel. Their blades in gripped tightly in hands, shimmering brilliantly under the shower of lights and Sakura found it hard to be just an observer.

Caught in the midst of this chaos, Sakura panicked, felt obligated to do something, yet had no idea of what to do exactly. But there was one thing she was resolute about and that was: there was no way would she allow herself to witness another gory scene again.

The surface of the earth was never meant to be bathed in scarlet red liquid and as a citizen of the earth, it was her duty to prevent such barbaric events from occurring.

Without thinking twice, she shut her eyes and yelled as loud as she could. "Patrolling officers!" The yell resonated in the thick, suspenseful air, reaching the ears of the three Bloods. They jerked their head around and panicked at the sound of her call.

She saw them whipping their heads around, attempting to confirm it with their own eyes. Sakura held her breath nervously. Her knuckles were turning paler by the passing seconds as she prayed silently, desperately for someone to pass by.

It was a childish way of diverting their attention and she knew she was fooling nobody here. But that was all she could come up with at the moment and it was worth a shot.

Her heart nearly danced in joy as her ears picked up the almost indistinctive sirens, slowly becoming louder and more audible by the fleeting moments. It was a coincident but it was enough to fool those attackers.

The three Bloods jumped at the false confirmation they were looking for and grabbed their weapons before dashing for their own lives, abandoning a severely wounded Syaoran.

After they were gone for good, Sakura stepped out of the shadows, stumbled away from the garbage dumpster and made her way shakily to him.

He was sitting on the ground, hand covering his wound. The chestnut locks soaked in his own perspiration masked his pained expression. His hands were covered in blood and Sakura hastily took out a pale pink handkerchief as she bent down, knees barely touching the pool of blood formed around him.

He looked up right then, amber eyes boring into hers. She quickly looked away and focused her attention on his wound instead. Sakura carefully removed his bloody hand and placed her handkerchief on top of his arm while her other hands worked to rip off the white fabric of her long skirt.

Talented hands tied the strip of cotton fabric around his arm swiftly to prevent further blood loss. He watched her in shocked. Speechless and stunned would be two suitable adjectives to describe his current state of mind.

"You need to go to the hospital." She advised, it was barely a whisper.

Her voice was just as timid and meek as ever, yet he could pick up the hints of firmness in her tone.

"I can't."

Sakura's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked up at him, silently demanding. _Why not?_

"I'll be fine." He assured her, but from the look of her eyes, he knew she wasn't convinced.

Sighing heavily, he explained. "The stupid doctors ask too many questions and my mother and the Li Clan…" He suddenly trailed off, becoming aware that he had just shared something very personal with her.

He expected her to get up and leave and walk away from his lame excuse, but she didn't. Instead, she grabbed onto his hand and pulled him off the dirty ground. "Follow me." She instructed curtly.

"To where?" Perplexity and confusion were evident in his eyes as he asked hoarsely.

"My house." She answered softly.

And Syaoran's eyes widened.

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A/N: By the way, I'm holding a Fan Art challenge thingy in my SxS forum, _Faded Dreams_ (the link is provided in my profile, underneath the link of my Fic-Journal i think). The challenge is actually quite simple, all you have to do is draw the dark angel Sakura kept on sketching in this story. :D If you're interested, you can visit my forum for more information :P 


	13. Chapter 13

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter Thirteen**

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The walk to her house was spent in pure silence and Syaoran took the time to scrutinize her back--the fine silken strands of her auburn hair, and her small, almost frail form. A part of him wondered how such dainty and delicate cherry blossom could be so sturdy and rigid at the same time.

Lost in his own contemplation and fascination, he almost forgot about the sharp pain shooting up his arm and the blood that was soaking the white handkerchief she gave him wet and the constant dripping of small red puddles along the sidewalk.

He was almost thankful that many had decided to stay in on that chilly and windy Sunday. Otherwise, he would be the center of attention in the neighborhood right now.

Syaoran felt himself squinting his eyes as he watched her honey colored hair caught a flicker of the pale sunlight, tinting it just slightly golden for that brief moment where the sunlight actually reached the earth before dissipating into the nothingness.

A strong desire tugged at his heart, causing his chest to tighten slightly as his hand itched, longed to ran his longer tapered fingers through those golden threads of the finest silk.

Clenching his hand into a small fist, he fought back the temptation to touch her hair and inhale in those wisps of faint cherry blossom scent that lingered still in the air.

They halted into a stop before a plain looking house, and Syaoran looked up, remembering the first time he had seen this particular house. A small grin played on his lips as he silently laughed at the irony of the situation. The last time he had been here, his role was the hero, the savoir. And now it was the other way around.

She turned over slightly to gesture him to follow her. He nodded in response and did what he was told to. He watched her from the behind and saw her talented fingers picking out the right key to unlock the door held all those secrets of hers behind. A light squeak was heard as the door opened, revealing a dimly lit entrance and a staircase on the side.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, he took off his shoes and changed into the green slippers provided by her. The house was enveloped by a ghastly silence that rang in his ears in a highly disturbing way. Child-like inquisition was evident in those amber eyes as he surveyed the surrounding.

"This way." She instructed quietly, pointing at the living room which was only a small distance away. Caught off guard, he glanced at her way with slightly widened eyes and realized he was doing. Dipping his head a bit lower, he followed her silently as she led him into the vacant living room.

It was quite small actually, he noticed. It wasn't as extravagant or luxurious as his mansion, but it gave away the impression of a somewhat cozy house.

The walls were covered in a simple greenish petals pattern and various pictures—mostly painted portraits of people he had never seen before, all aligned perfectly in a straight line on the wall.

There was a small TV a few meters away, situated right in front of the beige colored couch. Well-polished redwood was laid across the room and the center of the living room was covered by a layer of fuzzy white carpet.

The glass slides of the bookshelves beside the large window that panned an entire wall flickered spontaneously as it caught reflection of the pale light filtered through the closed curtains.

"Sit." The silence was broken by her soft word which sounded exceptionally loud in the vacant house. He was snapped out of his thoughts and slanted his head to meet her eyes unintentionally.

"Stay here while I go get my father's first aid kit." She cast him a brief glance before exiting the living room.

Syaoran was left alone in the empty room with his other companion: silence.

Swallowing hard, his dry throat itched at the abrupt contact of his own saliva. Gaze sweeping across the room again, his ear picked up the indistinctive dripping sound.

A part of his mind pondered if Sakura's house's water pipe was leaking at first, but as some more of his senses returned to his numbed body, he realized that it was him who was causing the dripping noises.

He lowered his gaze to the floor and blinked blankly at the bright color of the white carpet. Eyes widening almost immediately as he jumped off the couch and held his arm high up into the air to prevent further dripping.

His heartbeat escalated, beating frantically against his ribcage as he searched frenziedly for some kind of rug or paper towel he could use to clean up the mess he had just made.

This was his first time at a girl's house and he was already making a big fool out of himself. A bundle of guilty feelings exploded in him as he desperately tried to wipe away the newly formed pool of scarlet liquid on the white carpet, but he ended up messing it up even more.

Cursing silently in his mind and occasionally under his breathe at his own stupidity and obliviousness, he could only watch more blood trickle down his hand and onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" A demand from the door way caused him to look up, and there, he saw Sakura holding a medical kit in her hand and looking at him disapprovingly. "I thought I told you to sit still and don't move around." Her mildly toned voice had an implicit of reprimand.

Syaoran grinned at her sheepishly and sat down hastily. She crossed the room within a few steps and placed the first aid kit onto the TV table before kneeling down.

Syaoran bit his lips as his eyes caught a glimpse of the dripping blood and reluctantly pondered on what she was thinking at that moment since her facial expression remained the same as a few moments ago.

A part of him wondered how she could be so calm and almost oblivious to the fact that he had just ruined her perfectly white carpet. The blood stain might be permanent. Most girls, he assumed, would be chiding him for staining their carpets, or at least that was what his sisters and mother would do anyway.

But she didn't. Rather than lecturing him, she said absolutely nothing.

Her pale hand grabbed his bloody one and peeled off the piece of cloth that was plastered against his wound with extra care. Syaoran winced at the pain but fought off the grunt that was threatening to escape his throat. Regardless of how painful it was, he was determined to show the minimal amount of pain as possible.

After exposing his entire wound to the crispy air, she took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured some of the clear liquid onto a piece of cloth she found in the kit. She let the cloth absorb the liquid before rubbing it along the side of his wound and Syaoran's breath hitched at the freezing and piercing contact.

To say that it was somewhat painful would be the greatest understatement of the year. To say that it hurt like bloody hell would be a better description of what he was feeling at the moment.

The chemical was used to clean his wound and eliminate all bacteria around the reddened area to prevent an infection. But the process was surely painful. And he thought rubbing alcohol was bad.

In order to distract himself from it and the temptation to wince like a weakling, he decided to occupy his mind with something else more interesting. His eyes brightened slightly as they spotted the sight of those oil paintings that stirred the artistic side of him. Maybe hanging out with Sakura in art class for too long was really a bad idea.

Each of the paintings hung on the wall was different he noticed. They gave off a different feeling and emotion. Like a snapshot of people's lives, he saw different mirror images of different sides of life in those pictures.

There was a large one painting occupying the middle space of the wall. Syaoran stared at it for a few seconds before deciding that it was a family portrait of some sort.

The poised man with short honey auburn haired was smiling gently, the alikeness of his and Sakura's features lead Syaoran to the conclusion that he must be Sakura's father.

There was a beautiful woman with tumbling raven curls cascaded over her shoulder like the midnight waterfall sitting beside him. Her dark gray eyes held a degree of mysteriousness and her composure was absolutely elegant. He had never seen anyone so beautiful before.

As his eyes traveled downward, he saw a young boy sitting on Sakura's father's lap. His eyes were round and child-like, yet he seemed to be scowling at the camera with obvious indignation as if it had done something extremely offensive. Syaoran almost laughed out loud when he saw the pout on his lips. He was probably Sakura's brother.

And then, as his gaze shifted to the last member of the Kinomoto family, his eyes widened with surprise. The young girl in the painting was nothing like the Sakura he met.

Bright emerald green eyes contained a soft flicker of child-like innocence. The cheerful smile on her face could light up the entire room. He saw so much more life in the painting Sakura than the real her.

All he could ask himself at the moment was: what had caused such dramatic change in a bright young girl's life that shaped the way she was now.

"What are you looking at?" The sudden query caused him to jerk his head backward and turn around to face the puzzled Sakura by his side.

He blinked a few times before lowering his gaze and saw a thick layer of bandage wrapped around his entire arm. The disturbing sight of his wound could no longer be seen.

Instead of covering his actions with a simple and quick "nothing", the words themselves suddenly chose to ignore his brain's command and slipped out of his mouth.

"Your family portrait." He regretfully burst out the words and cursed his own tongue as soon as the words rolled off the tip of his tongue.

She whipped her head around to take a look at the portrait that she had stopped herself from seeing and stared at it with widened eyes.

There was a quick flash of sorrow and painful recollection in her eyes but she quickly masked it by hiding it behind her long thick lashes. She didn't remember how long it had been since her grandfather had painted that picture.

The image of happiness was vague and unclear in her mind. She didn't remember when was the last time she had wore that kind of content smile on her face. It felt awkward and strange to study herself again, the one whom had already faded into the darkness.

She had changed. Nothing could ever stay the same in this constantly changing world. Even the most precious memories could fade away and slowly become forgotten as time battered on.

"Your mother is beautiful." The sudden compliment from him caused her to shift her gaze to the graceful face of Nadeshiko. The beautiful smile seemed so delusive to Sakura now, just like a façade that she hid herself from. The painting gave away the impression of a perfect family, but she knew it was far from being perfect.

But the painting was gorgeous nonetheless and one could argue that such infinite beauty was brought out by a flaws and imperfection.

"Was," she corrected him, unable to look at the image any longer. Perplexity was evident in his eyes as he cocked his head to the side, a questioning look reflecting on those pools of amber.

"She was beautiful." Sakura clarified as she started to pack up the things she took out from the first aid kit. "My mother's dead." She announced, her soft voice resonating in the house almost hauntingly.

Amber eyes flickered wide open, momentarily filled with surprise as the words registered in his mind. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." Syaoran mumbled an apology, feeling ashamed for reminding her of the painful memories that she'd rather forget.

He wasn't great with words. In fact, he was never the comforting people type.

Gnawing at the corner of his mouth, he took a quick peak at her but saw her looking down at the bloody carpet. Just then he caught a glimpse of something sparkling in her eyes, but it never rolled down her cheeks.

Feeling the weight of guilt crushing down upon his shoulder, he suddenly found it hard to breathe. Suspense and silence washed over them as he listened to the ticking of the clock. He cleared his throat, an obvious prompt for something to begin, yet he did not speak. Demanding something yet asking nothing.

The awkwardness lingered still between them, unable to deal with the torture any longer, Syaoran abruptly declared as he jolted out of his seat. "I better get going now. Thanks for helping me." He expected her to say something, but only received a small nod and a quiet "don't worry about it".

The sudden sight of a scarlet handkerchief caught his eyes as he avoided direct eye contact with her.

"I'll wash this and replace your carpet with a new one." He hastily grabbed the handkerchief and held it tightly in his hand, giving it a small squeeze. It was the least he could do anyway.

"It's okay. I can just wash it with some soap and baking soda." She turned down his offer, for she didn't see the need to taking advantage of this sitation.

She was just returning a favor, she told herself. He had helped her when she needed it and now it was her turn to help him. It wasn't even out of generosity, just returning someone a favor.

Syaoran fell silent for a moment and Sakura kept her eyes on her lap, refusing to lift her gaze from her thin wrist. "Well…I'll get you a new one anyway and it will be up to you to take it or not." He said with finality. "And I'll keep the handkerchief for now and return it to you on Monday."

Sakura let out a small sigh but did not dispute anything. She had a long tiring day and the lack of sleep she had in these days was catching up with her. His movements were somewhat uncertain and reluctant. He paused for a long moment before walking away from her while bidding her an uncomfortable goodbye.

She mumbled a quiet "ja ne (see ya)" in return as he made his way to the door way. But just before he opened it and stepped out of her house, he bumped into someone and fell backward but his quick reflexes kicked in and prevented an unnecessary fall.

Syaoran cursed himself for being so easily distracted when he was with her as he regained his balance. The person muttered a soft "gomen nasai (sorry), daijoubu ka? (are you okay)" to him. The deepness and steadiness of the person's masculine voice sounded like it was rumbling out from his core.

Syaoran tilted his head upward and found himself staring into a familiar pair of hazel eyes. They were gentle and fatherly, just like the ones he saw in the painting.

Syaoran soon realized who the person was. His heart skipped a beat as he stammered out. "K-kinomoto-san?"

The man scrutinized him, perplexed and shocked and Syaoran gulped.

_It was none other than Kinomoto Fujitaka, Sakura's father._

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A/N: If you're interested in responding to the fanart challenge posted in my SxS Forum (please see my profile for the link to **Faded Dreams** forum), you can send your picture to me by email or post it there. Some people already submitted their works so if you're interested in seeing how Syaoran looks as a dark angel, that forum is the place to go :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Black Wings**

_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**Chapter Fourteen **

Amber eyes widened momentarily with shock. A few silken chestnut strands fell into his eyes as he stepped backward. The man standing before him was none other than the one he saw in the portrait, but with more lines of wisdom around his winkling eyes. A small smile bloomed on the other's lips as he gazed at Syaoran with something closed to delight.

Gulping unconsciously, Syaoran felt the breath he inhaled in a moment ago caught in his throat. His heart almost stopped pounding the moment their shoulders collided at the doorway. The events took place all too quickly, and Syaoran wasn't sure how he should react to it. If any at all.

"Oh hi, sorry about that." The older man murmured, his voice low and soft, fatherly and resonating pleasantly in the air, producing endless echoes that were barely audible. "I'm Kinomoto Fujitaka, Sakura's father. And you are…?" He trailed off, slight surprise and curiosity evident in his warm hazel eyes.

Syaoran blinked a few times, hearing his own pulse thudding loudly in his ears. "Umm…Li Syaoran desu… I'm her classmate…" There came his reply, full of uncertainty and nervousness. Even he found that nervous, timid, quiet voice foreign. Where was his confidence and cockiness?

"Oh really?" Rather than yelling at him for being alone in their house with his precious daughter, Fujitaka looked delighted, amusement and contentment lacing within his words.

"That's great. I didn't know Sakura already made friends at her new school. Thank you for coming over and hang out with Sakura." A polite bow followed and Syaoran felt his own cheeks growing hotter by the passing seconds.

"Umm…thanks for having me over…" Syaoran stammered, unable to decide on a more appropriate reply, he returned the bow with more respect. Fujitaka smiled pleasantly back at him and stepped into the house, gently closing the door behind him.

"Sakura rarely tells me anything about school and her friends. I was actually a bit worried about her not being able to fit in since she's a little shy around strangers. Did Tomoyo introduce you to her?" Fujitaka looked up suddenly as he changed into a pair of white slippers.

Flinching at the unexpected question, Syaoran blinked and took his time to process the question and somehow coming up with a good response. "Um… not really, I met Sa- I mean Kinomoto-san in Visual Arts classes." Syaoran felt like smacking himself right then for almost using her first name.

Fujitaka gave him a light laugh. "It's alright, you can call her Sakura in front of me. I'm really glad you two are getting along so well. Usually it'll take Sakura at least two years to get to know someone really well and allow them to call her by her first name." He cast a quick loving glance at Sakura who was standing silently by the couch.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground, and the bangs that were falling into her eyes made her expression unreadable. It was so hard sometimes to figure out what exactly she was thinking when she wasn't speaking. Syaoran could see the hint of sadness in that quick glance. It was full of pain and an unspeakable sorrow.

His heart skipped a beat right then. A sudden, strange bundle of emotions was weighted upon his pounding heart. The weight crushed his nearby lungs, making the task of breathing extremely difficult. Even through the dim lit house, he could see the clear display of emotions in Fujitaka's eyes.

He almost felt he had stumbled upon something personal, something he shouldn't be seeing. Sakura's family history and entire background were still an enigma to him. The family portrait he saw earlier reflected nothing but perfection, but in reality, the Kinomoto were far from being perfect. Rather, all its secrets were hidden behind that beautiful satin veil.

If one didn't look close enough, the flaws would be easily missed.

"Anyway, Li-kun, make yourself comfortable while I go make dinner and I'll let you two know when it's done. I'm sure you and Sakura have your 'teenager' thing to do. Don't let me be a bother to you." Syaoran almost blushed at the suggestion, when he stole a peak at Fujitaka, he only saw his smiling face, unwavering.

Syaoran wanted to dispute it, and explain himself clearly that he was actually on his way out. But nothing came out.

"I'll be in the kitchen. Give me a call if you need anything." With that being said, Fujitaka hung his jacket on the hanger and headed for the kitchen, rolling his shirt's sleeves up as he strolled toward his destination.

This left Sakura and Syaoran staring at each other with the silence of the late afternoon being their sole companion.

"Sorry about this… listen, I really don't want to intrude upon your family dinner or anything. I'll be on my way out and let Kinomoto-san know that I really appreciate his invitation--" Before he could even finish his sentence, Sakura turned to his way, cutting in.

"It's okay. He invited you in, and you should stay." Sakura reasoned quietly.

Her face remained expressionless. Even under the dim lighting, she still looked mysterious and beautiful. Her skin was like ceramics, like the most expensive china, pale and smooth, a lighter shade of snowy white.

The silence of the house rang in his ears, like a bad song put on repeat. Everywhere he looked, he felt like it was hiding a secret. The more he studied the house itself, the more puzzled he became.

He couldn't solve her. She was too complex. Her personality and appearance, they didn't quite match. She looked too innocent, but when he looked into her eyes, maturity and sorrow reflected in them. It gave away the impression that she has seen too much.

While he was lost in his own thoughts, she already made across the living room and disappeared into the dark hallway silently like a lost soul wandering under the faded moonlight, beautiful, lonely, and serene—an eternity of grace and elegancy.

Surprise flashed in those golden orbs, a sense of frantic washed over him as he looked around for her. But she was no where to be seen. She must have left the room while he was staring into the vacant space, lost in his own contemplation.

Just when he was about to go look for her, she showed up at the entrance to the living room with a bucket of water in her hand and a towel hanging on the lip of the bucket.

The struggling look on her face revealed the heaviness of the bucket. Syaoran immediately rushed to her side to offer his assistance. But she stubbornly turned down his offer and carried the heavy bucket of water to the blood stain herself.

He watched her dropping it onto the ground with a small sigh of relief before kneeling down and attending the stain. Her small hand held the piece of cloth tightly as she scrubbed the carpet. Guilt rushed into the chambers of his heart instantly. His mouth thinned into a line as he approached her again, kneeling down beside her himself.

"I'll scrub it off for you." He offered carefully, not wanting to get on her bad side.

"No it's okay." She mumbled; a few strands of hair fell into her eyes. She used her wet hand to push it aside annoyingly, but only to cause more strands to escape the hold of her hairclip.

"Here I'll help you." He insisted as he brought his un-bandaged hand close to her face, barely touching her smooth cool skin as he slid the hair to the back of her ear. She stared at him in shock, a hint of red surfacing her pale cheeks. He smiled gleefully at her, hardly embarrassed by their close proximity.

"You can't multitask like that Sakura." He chided with slight sarcasm and amusement lacing his silky voice. He watched her turning away from him defiantly, refusing to provide him with the slightest bit of amusement. Syaoran almost laughed.

The awkwardness from a moment ago dissipated soundlessly into the air. Syaoran almost felt he could breath easier now. His legs were beginning to tire out as he attempted to keep his stillness.

Unable to take it any more, he sat down onto the carpet and observed her swift and delicate movements like a child taking in the sight of a cake in the making.

She suddenly stopped moving. Her hand reached out for the water in the bucket, but the position of the water bucket was slightly out of her reach. Acting on impulse and his strong desire to help her, he reached for the water at the same time, but only to find his hand sliding over hers.

The touch was tingling, as if an electrical spark had just passed through their bodies. Unknowingly, they turned toward each other, aligning their visions unintentionally, serendipitously. Sometimes Syaoran wondered if everything involved them was fated. There were just too many coincidences.

Sakura drew her hand back first, eyes glaring at the ground. Her hair shielded her face away from him. It was then Fujitaka called out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!" Syaoran whipped his head around and looked over his shoulder, eyes picking up the golden glint from the kitchen far away, at the end of the darkened hallway.

The rustle of clothes shattered the silence that filled in between them once again. Syaoran lifted his gaze but only to find Sakura walking pass him, her shirt brushing against his cold hand. The brief contact reminded him of the moment where their hands touched unexpectedly. Her skin was just as soft and smooth, but slightly colder than it should have been.

He followed her to the kitchen and what welcomed him was the pleasant scent of meal, and the lighting of the kitchen was perfect. It brought out the coziness of the house and the feeling of a family dinner. Syaoran gaped at the food laid out on the table, feeling his appetite growing rapidly.

Even though they had more dishes during a normal Li-dinner, but the table was always empty. His sisters were all married and started a family of their own. His mother was never around for dinner, and while she occasionally was, the atmosphere was a lot more intense and embraced by cold formality. They were nothing like a family.

"Take a sit Li-kun." Fujitaka instructed lightly, a gentle smile tugging on his lips. Syaoran nodded and seated down stiffly. It was almost awkward in a sense, since he has never been invited to anyone's house before for dinner. Surely he had been to those formal dinner parties, but it was nothing like this.

"So Li-kun, how are your classes so far?" Fujitaka conversed casually before taking a bite of his nigiri sushi, and he glanced at Syaoran.

"Umm, pretty good, this year's a lot more intense than last year I guess." Syaoran answered, feeling his uneasiness disappearing. He didn't even know why he was so startled and nervous in the first place. After all, Fujitaka was nothing but kind and understanding to him.

"Ah, of course, it is your last year in high school and the university entrance exams are just around the corner." Fujitaka nodded to himself, the smile was perpetually plastered on his face. He picked up a few sushi rolls and placed them on top of Sakura's rice.

"I hope you can help Sakura with her math and the things she doesn't understand. She rarely asks me for help."

"I'm not that great at school subjects myself, and Sakura helps me a lot in arts." Syaoran grinned sheepishly as he placed a sushi roll into his mouth. It tasted absolutely delicious.

"Souka na…" It seemed like Fujitaka was nodding to himself. "So Li-Kun, I haven't asked you about your family yet. How long have you been in Tomoeda anyway?"

The sudden question caught Syaoran a little off guard. He wasn't really expecting being questioned about his family matters. It was the last thing he ever wanted to discuss. But the hopeful and kind glint in Fujitaka's eyes made refusal almost impossible.

"My mother's the head of the Li Clan, we've been in Tomoeda for only five years." He answered forcefully.

"Oh you're part of the Li Clan!" Fujitaka exclaimed, manifestation evident in his eyes. "I thought your last name sounded familiar, but I didn't want to make an assumption."

"Don't worry about. People always ask that when I tell them my name. I grew used to it already." Syaoran answered dully, gazing down at his food.

Fujitaka studied the young man before him, catching the sullen look in his eyes with easy. "But, you are you, and that's the most important thing, ne?"

This forced Syaoran to lift his eyes, and what came into his sight was a pair of understanding brown eyes.

……

Dinner ended with Fujitaka and Syaoran dominating the table conversation. Sakura stayed silent most of the times. Her facial expression changed from occasionally embarrassed look to slightly flustered and then to somewhat sulky. The atmosphere was a lot more relax than before. They could almost be mistaken as a family. Almost that is.

The late autumn evening was fast approaching. The dark velvety sky outside served as a reminder to Syaoran that the magic was almost over. Soon, he would have to go back to a large mansion others could only dream to live in. But he dreaded it. He didn't want to go back to an apathetic family with nothing but high expectations.

"It was great meeting you Li-kun, and drop by next time when you're not busy with studying." Fujitaka waved a hand, bidding the younger boy goodnight. Sakura stood by her father's side, her large emerald green eyes never left Syaoran. Her lips were still pressed into a thin line, but Syaoran could see the corner of her unsmiling mouth lifting just slightly. Even though the distinction was subtle, he could still see it and it made his heart pound with excitement.

He reluctantly turned his back on them after bowing politely and respectfully. A chilly gust rushed past him. The coldness against his skin made him shiver. It stole away the only warmth left in his skin yet he didn't feel cold. His heart was filled with a strange kind of warmth that he had never experienced before.

Instead of going home, he headed for the base to stall sometime before his mother sent out a group of bodyguards to kidnap him back to the mansion.

He opened the door of their secret base and expected to be greeted with the usual "yo". But it didn't come. Instead, the query that often reminded him of his mother greeted him. "Where the hell have you been? Meiling phoned 100 time already, yelling at me for not passing down the message correctly. I thought you were supposed to go home!"

An annoyed and irritated Eriol growled at him with his arms crossed. Syaoran wondered if he should tell the other that he looked like his mother, but decided wisely to shrug off the idea. Teasing Eriol when he was in a bad mood won't be a smart move to make.

"Something happened on the way." Syaoran explained vaguely as he took a seat.

"What happened to your arm?" Nothing ever escapes Hiro's eyes. All eyes fell upon Syaoran's bandaged arm.

"Katou and the Bloods." Syaoran answered nonchalantly. "It's not big deal. Sakura saw me on the way and helped to bandage my arm."

"THOSE BASTARDS SNEAKED UP ON YOU AND INJURED YOU!" Hiro jolted up from his seat as if it burned. Anger and fire of fury flashed in his eyes as his jaws tightened. "Those low life bastards." He muttered a curse, cracking a knuckle.

"It's all good now. But I'm worried about Sakura. She doesn't know what she's gotten herself into." The seriousness in Syaoran's tone made Eriol and Hiro face his way, both immediately quieted down. It wasn't often to see their leader this serious and they knew it was time to listen.

"Katou and the Bloods will find out that she helped me and they would hunt her down for sure. She doesn't know anything about the danger of saving a gang leader when he is involved in a fight with an opposition team." Amber eyes gazed into the distance, his dark eyebrows meeting each other in a frown.

"Well what do you suggest we do Syaoran?" Eriol questioned carefully.

Syaoran looked thoughtful for a minute before reaching a decision, he declared loudly and clearly, "I'm going to protect her."

Hiro and Eriol's jaws dropped right then.

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A/N: A/N: Poetic muses struck me. I got a little carried away in this chapter. I didn't even glance through this chapter quickly, so excuse the obvious mistakes. I thought you guys might want to read it first before I send it to my beta-reader. Since that usually take a few days.

Feedbacks appreciated. Flames ignored.


	15. Chapter 15

**Black Wings  
**By: Aisaki Sumi

**Chapter Fifteen **

Sakura watched him disappear into the night. The streetlamps on the sidewalk made up for the lack of moonlight. The artificial light was silvery and slightly faint—faded and serene. It made him look somewhat lonely and Sakura swore the smile on his face was different.

It was more rueful than playful.

He wandered down the dimly lit street with the dark velvety sky stretched out above him. He reminded her of a lost soul.

He seemed less like his usual content self. Perhaps he was just like everyone else, or like her, with a secret of his own and a past he could not forget. His wings, at that moment, looked rather broken and delicate than strong and powerful.

The house was empty again, filled with tension and suspense and unforgiven pain. Sakura silently made across the hallway after she shut the door, and wandered towards the living room, but only to be halted into a stop half way through.

"Sakura," she paused and listened carefully, not replying.

A soft sigh followed and she wondered how many times she had heard Fujitak heave out such a sigh since she moved back to Tomoeda.

"Li-kun seems really nice…and I'm glad you're already making friends here. I was a bit worried at first…" He trailed off unsurely, discreet with his choice of words. "Anyway, what I wanted to say is that don't be afraid to invite your friends over."

Sakura could hear nervousness underlying his tone. Fujitaka was a wonderful father, loving and caring. But he didn't understand her, or at least she didn't think he did. But then again, he wasn't the one at fault. She was the one pushing him away, wanting to be alone and independent.

Before their family broke up into pieces, he was like her best friend. They could talk about anything. But things happen and life is constantly changing and ending; close friends can become strangers; family members can become distant. She had stopped trusting him the moment she saw the ugliness of the world.

She had stopped trusting everyone around her.

She didn't want to be too attached to anyone, or anything. She couldn't afford to face another blow on her own. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

Life was unfair to her, breaking up her family, taking away her bother and her brother. They were two of the most important people in her life. She had learned not to get too easily attached to things and people the hard way.

"He's not my friend." She suddenly declared, a hint of irritation in her voice.

Fujitaka's eyes flickered with surprise. "I only invited him in because he got hurt. That's where the trail of blood came from." Sakura pointed a hand at the faint trail of blood left on the white carpet, the stained rug and half filled water bucket.

"Oh…" Fujitaka acknowledged faintly.

"I'm almost done cleaning anyway." She informed with a light shrug and continued down the hallway until she reached the living room.

Fujitaka could only watch his daughter slip away from him more and more as she strolled away. Sadness reflected in his dark eyes as a strand of silver hair fell into his eyes.

He could only hope that perhaps someday a nice young man would come along and show her that she was never alone. The image of Syaoran then appeared in his mind. Looking back, Sakura didn't seem to mind his presence all that much.

Perhaps Li-kun could change her and show her the side of life she had never seen before.

……

Syaoran quietly climbed over the fences and made safely across the garden without many security cameras spotting him. He would just have to get up a bit early in the morning tomorrow to destroy all the tapes they had of him before his mother gets her hands on them. With all the solid evidences gone, Yelan's accusations would only be unreasonable and unjustifiable.

Sighing in slight relief as he reached the side door, he unlocked it with the keys he stole from the sleeping security guy and opened it as quietly as possible. He gave the door a little push and tiptoed in. And now, all he had to do was to fumble across the living room without crashing into any of his mother's fine Qing Dynasty china. That shouldn't be too hard…right?

He slowly tiptoed across the living room, but only to be stopped by a stern voice.

"Syaoran."

He froze on the spot, heart pounding frantically as if it was going to leap out of his throat. He breathed heavily and unevenly as he listened hard. His amber eyes quickly surveyed his surroundings, and only to find a dark figure sitting on the couch. _Crap._

"Where were you today? I phoned your cellphone so many times and as well as Eriol's since your phone was turned off." Syaoran could hear the implicit anger and irritation in that smooth voice. Furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation, he thought on the voice for a bit and realized that it was only Meiling.

He swore Meiling needed to learn and try to sound less like Yelan if she ever wanted to get herself a boyfriend.

Feeling he could breath a bit easier now, his tensed shoulder relaxed. "Meiling, don't scare me like that in the dark, I have a bad heart you know." He folded his arms, expecting her to laugh a bit and forget about the whole thing. But she didn't.

Meiling was his mother's personal spy and nagger when Yelan wasn't around. And if his mother hears a word about him sneaking into the house late at night, he would be dead.

"No you don't." Meiling denied defiantly. "Now tell me where you were, or else I'll tell auntie about this." Syaoran twitched at the childish threat.

"I don't need to tell you anything. You don't have the right to stick your nose into my personal life anyway." He retorted coolly, but remained cautious of what he was walking into.

"Auntie told me to keep a close eye on you when she's not around and I have the right to know where you went."

Suppressing his lips into a line, Syaoran glared at her way. "I went to a girl's house, happy now?" Silence was the only reply he received.

A triumphant smile formed on his lips as he swerved around and headed for his bedroom. At _least that went pretty well, shutting Meiling up for the night,_ he thought gleefully.

"Were you at that Kinomoto Sakura's house?" The cold demand made him pause on the way. He could hear the scornful emphasize on Sakura's name and this made him clench his hand into a fist.

"I'm not stupid Syaoran, I've seen you hang out with her at school."

"And so I have." He didn't bother denying it.

"You like her don't you?" She cried out hysterically and this made Syaoran jerk his head back with widened eyes. "You like her don't you!" She hissed, voice turning horse and breaking into the sob.

"You're being ridiculous Meiling." Syaoran said dismissively as he ran up the stairs, heart thudding loudly in his ribcage. Meiling's voice echoed endlessly in his head. _You like her don't you? _

Surely he had felt a strange attraction toward her, and surely he was intrigued by her. But that didn't mean he liked her…right?

But somehow, his heart disagreed.

……

The next morning, Syaoran woke up earlier than usual. He grabbed a toast on the way out with his school bang hanging from his shoulder loosely. His beloved motorcycle was probably in ruins right now, abandoned by that garbage dumpster where the Bloods attacked him. But thank god he had another one, exactly identical one.

"Syaoran," Meiling called out from the behind and Syaoran almost winced at her voice. It sounded so much like his mother's voice and it was beginning to creep him out how Meiling might turn out like Yelan someday. "Can you give me a ride to school today?"

"I don't give rides Meiling, you know that." He said lightly before leaving the kitchen like a gust of wind whirling by.

She blinked once and he was gone, like the lightest autumn breeze; he left without a trace. But his words resonated in the air, producing an endless echo in the silent house.

Sometimes she wondered if she ever meant anything to him.

……

Syaoran put out the engine as he waited patiently by the Kinomoto residence. He flickered a glance up at the nearby cherry blossom tree and watched the withered, auburn colored leaves drift weightlessly through the thin hair.

Another reason was about to end. He could feel it from the chills of the wind. It was harsher and colder now.

And the sky looked a lot gloomier than before. Sheets of wistful smogs captured the sunlight in a greedy act, leaving the ground without sun-kissed warmth. _How depressing…_ He thought. It was then the clicks of shoes on the pavement brought him back to the real world.

A smile immediately bloomed on his face as he saw Sakura coming out of her house with her school bag and her big art binder.

"Ohayou Sakura!" He beamed at the sight of her. He waved a hand at her through the falling leaves and laughed lightly at her shocked expression. She was beginning to get used to him calling her Sakura now and to say this pleased him would be a great understatement.

Her movements now became slightly stiffened and awkward as she made her way through their small garden he noticed.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing came out of her mouth.

"And it's nice to see you too." He replied dryly. She didn't catch the humour in his sarcastic response, but only glared at him with those intensive emerald green eyes that tugged at his heart so relentlessly.

"I came to pick you up silly." He patted his motorcycle and she gave him a somewhat skeptical look.

"Hop on already will ya? It's not like I'm going to kidnap you and see you to some strip club." He passed a helmet to her, but she didn't take it.

Running a hand through his silky chestnut hair, he heaved out a sigh. "It's not safe for you to go to school on your own anymore. Not after what happened on Sunday." He looked into her eyes and saw evident perplexity reflected in those glassy marble-like eyes.

"You interrupted a gang fight. Katou and the Bloods are not stupid. They'll find out sooner or later that you saved me, and then, they'll go after you and make you pay for it." The last few words rolled off his tongue with bitterness.

Anger flashed in his eyes, in a moment too brief to be recognized, but Sakura caught a glimpse of it and it made her heart skip a beat.

"Look, I don't want anything to happen to you. And that's why I'm going to protect you from now on. I'll pick you up from your house and give you a ride after school too."

She looked away and brushed aside the long auburn bangs that were falling into her eyes. "No thanks. I'll protect myself." She turned down his offer and swerved around, starting to walk away.

She didn't need him in her life. She was independent. She could be responsible for herself. And if they wanted to go after her, she would just have to report it to the police.

"Don't take it so lightly Sakura." He raised his volume slightly. This made Sakura stop on track and look over her shoulder. There, she saw a rare seriousness displaying in his eyes. "If something happens to you because of me, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

Her throat tightened and her breath was hitched. She didn't know why but the integrity she saw from the windows of his soul and the underlying ruefulness in his tone caused her heartbeat to escalate. She had never seen this face of his. In her mind, he was always the content, teasing but charismatic gang leader.

Maybe this was his serious side.

She wanted to refuse, but found her tongue all tangled up. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"If you don't get on, we're gonna be late for school and that wouldn't look so good on your perfect attendance list now would it?" He asked her teasingly, his eyes winkling a smile. All the seriousness was gone as soon as they surfaced.

She got onto the passenger seat reluctantly, looking around to see where she could put her bag and art binder. "You should hold onto your binder and bag and me or else you'll fall off the bike." His muffled voice reached her ears. She looked up and saw him looking over his shoulder through the plastic shield.

There was no way she was going to hold onto him. Absolutely no way. Instead of responding to his advice, she stubbornly ignored him and gripped the seat as tightly as she could. He shrugged nonchalantly and started the bike. The roars of the engine were carried miles away on the careless wind.

Before she knew, the sudden acceleration already caused her head to slam against his back and her hands intuitively circled his waist. She squeezed her eyes tightly together and leaned against him for support as if he was the thread of her life. Wisps of his scent lingered still in the air between them, filling her nostrils with its pleasantness.

She hated guys who wear cologne, but strangely enough, she couldn't bring herself to hate his scent.

Lavender mixed with slight bits of spice, it was almost seductive. It reminded her of his personality; strong, charismatic, and wild, but caring and honest at the same time. The wind was blowing violently against her, its coldness seeping through the thin layer of her school uniform.

But for some unknown reason, she felt warm and safe around him, as if he was protecting her from the violent outside world—as if he was protecting her away from all the external forces that were trying to tear her apart.

He was her black winged guardian angel after all.

……

"Hey Meiling-chan, did you see the new Gucci bag? It's sooo cute! We have to go shop for it!" The girl with short blonde hair squealed excitedly as she tugged at Meiling's sleeve like a little child.

"Sure Aiko-chan, if we don't have a lot of homework that is." Meiling smiled in return, patting her friend on the head affectionately. Miyamoto Aiko was her best friend. She was always bright and enthusiastic. She was a friend Meiling could count on, and was always there to stand up for Meiling, or back her up in a fight.

"You know--" Before Aiko could finish her sentence, a loud roar was heard and soon afterwards arrived the flashy red motorcycle along with its rider…and a passenger? All eyes were focused on the two figures on the bike. Some were whispering to each other conspiratorially while others were simply too shock to even produce a coherent speech.

Meiling was no exception. She was beyond stunned and shocked beyond her mind's comprehension. A part of her felt betrayed when she recognized the figure ridding on the passenger seat of that bike. Her mouth twisted into a thin as she remembered what Syaoran said that morning.

_I don't give rides, you know that Meiling._

Anger boiled in her veins as she saw Sakura holding tightly onto the person she figured could only be Syaoran. Her eyes were trained on them as she observed the two with hard and hateful ruby eyes. Syaoran helped Sakura get off the motorcycle and passed her bag and art binder to her.

He had such a rare, lighthearted smile on his lips. It was a smile that Meiling had never seen before, even though they grew up together. She had never seen him looking at anyone so lovingly before. Pain and bitterness settled in her heart permanently. It almost shattered when she saw him holding onto her hand.

"It's that new girl again. How _dare_ she show her face here like that and making a scene with Li-kun when his fiancée is standing right here!" Aiko gritted her teeth, a scornful look in her eyes.

Aiko's angry voice seemed so indistinctive. Everything around her seemed so faded and silent. She could only see Syaoran and Sakura, and hear Syaoran's faint laughter. It blended so ironically well with the heavy thumps of her bleeding heart.

……

The ringing of the bell resounded in the large school building, through the hallways and the quiet classrooms. Clamors from the morning were gone, left the school in the embrace of a pleasant tranquility. Sakura was pulled out of her Japanese literature class a few minutes ago by her Visual Arts teacher, Fuji Syuusuke.

Not that she minded missing that class. They were having a work period anyway. Sakura sat nervously on the edge of the chair in front of Fuji-sensei's desk and watched him pour her a cup of green tea.

"I'm very sorry for pulling you out of your Japanese Literature class, but there are some very important matters I would like to discuss with you." Fuji-sensei placed the tea cup in front of her before going back to his own seat and folding his hands gracefully together.

Sakura nodded in response, indicating that she was listening attentively.

Fuji went on, explaining himself. "I saw a sketch of yours the other day by accident. And it blew me away. I've never seen such fine detailed and vivid drawing before. You certainly have a talent in detailing and shading." She blushed faintly at the compliment and looked down, unable to meet Fuji's blue eyes.

"But what surprised me even more was that the black winged angel you drew was actually Li-Kun." Sakura flickered up a surprised glance at the now smiling Fuji-sensei. She did not speak, she wasn't sure if she was afraid to speak or her voice had decided to betray her.

No one was supposed to see it, not even Fuji-sensei.

Fuji-sensei seemed to have sensed her nervousness and fast-increasing discomfort levels. The kind smile on his face widened.

"You don't have to be ashamed of your own drawing. It was very beautiful and extremely fascinating in a sense. Many have attempted to take on the subject of angels and devils in the past, but yours just struck me as hauntingly beautiful."

"You have a true talent Kinomoto-san, and I would like to see you develop that potential of yours." Fuji murmured, his voice soft and soothing and enchanting. Sakura almost felt a bit more relaxed than before.

"There's an art contest coming up, and this year's theme is: salvation. I think you should enter it." He suggested, holding out a information brochure, gesturing her to take it.

Sakura thanked him quietly as she took the brochure.

"You should also speak to Li-kun about it and see if he'll model for you. The only flaw with your other sketch is the lack of fine details on the subject's face and eyes. Those two parts are the most attractive and compelling things about an angel, and you should definitely get it down. It'll add more believability and abstract realism to your work."

Sakura was taken back by the abrupt suggestion. She stared at Fuji-sensei in disbelief, like a gold fish with its eyes wide open. But he simply chuckled at her reaction. "You and Li-kun seem pretty close, I'm sure he wouldn't mind being your model. In fact, I think he might be immensely flattered that you want to draw him."

Warmth spread across her cheeks as she gazed down at the brochure in her hand. How was she going to ask him to model for her? And what if he says no?

_Salvation…_ her eyes traced over the word and remembered those strong dark wings, and his unique scent. She had fallen in love with his beautiful wings, and the scent of his cologne, and soon enough, she would fall in love with _him_.

……

By the time she left Fuji-sensei's office, Japanese Literature class already ended. Sakura let out a small sigh and shoved the brochure into her art binder. She hadn't quite made up her mind yet, but Fuji-sensei had mentioned something about the prize being full scholarship to Tokyo University's Arts Faculty. It was a very tempting reward, and she could really use that money for college.

After all, her father's income was barely enough for them to pay off Touya's expensive medical bills and the mortgage and their living expenses. She didn't want to be a burden to him. She would just have to earn herself the money to continue her education at a post-secondary level.

While she was lost in her thoughts, she bumped into something soft. "Gomen (sorry)." She quickly apologized.

"Kinomoto Sakura, desu ne?" Sakura looked up and only to found herself cornered by three girls. She recognized two of them. One was Meiling, who had long beautiful ebony locks, and the other one was her best friend. She was also the same person who gave her a hard time on the first day of school.

Sakura swallowed hard.

Her gut instincts told her that she was in deep trouble.

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A/N: A very long chappie, doesn't it deserve a nice long review? XD I'll attach another chappie to this series if asked nicely. Keep in mind that Meiling isn't a bad person in this fic! I actually kinda like her. XD

Disregard all mistakes, it will be sent to my beta-reader soon.

Reviews appreciated. Flames ignored.


	16. Chapter 16

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

**Just to recap what happened in the previous chapters…**

Sakura was a quite, mysterious and aloof artist who just moved back to Tomoeda and was currently living with her father. Her mother committed suicide a few years back when she divorced Sakura's father and moved to Tokyo with Sakura. They had a lot of problems which contributed to the tragic ending. Sakura watched Nadeshiko kill herself and that left her mentally and emotionally unstable for years. She was subjected to treatments at an asylum in Tokyo.

After her release, Sakura moved back to her home town and there she meets Syaoran, the ringleader of a school gang at Tomoeda Heights. Their paths crossed unexpected when Eriol and Hiro, Syaoran's two best friends were scouting around the town for 'Syaoran's first girlfriend', and found Sakura. Hiro took Sakura to their secret base by force and Syaoran was outraged by their actions. He immediately released her and took her home.

They met again at school, and Syaoran came into the rescue when Sakura was caught in an awkward situation in Japanese Literature class where she had to read the poem she wrote. After that, Syaoran have been trying hard to hangout with Sakura at lunch and art classes to get to know her better. He is drawn to her by her personality and at the same time, her strong independency. She is different from the girls he met before and he is determined to break down her cold exteriors.

One event leads to another, like a chained reaction. Syaoran was unfortunately attacked by his rival gang, the Bloods, but was fortunately enough to be saved by Sakura. Sakura took him to her house and cleaned up his wound. After moments of silence, Syaoran decided it was time to leave. But on his way out, he bumped right into Sakura's father, Fujitaka. Fujitaka was delighted to see Sakura's guest at their house and insisted that Syaoran stays for dinner.

After dinner, Syaoran went home. But just when he was sneaking across the darkened living room, he was stopped by Meiling. Meiling questioned him impatiently about his whereabouts and he told her the truth that he was at Sakura's house. This felt like stab in Meiling's heart. The next day, Syaoran declared that he would protect Sakura no matter what and went to pick up Sakura. They went to school together and their closeness was seen by Meiling.

During Japanese literature class, Sakura was pulled out by Fuji-sensei and he recommended her to enter a well-known and respected art contest to win a scholarship to Tokyo University's Faculty of Arts. He also suggested that she could ask Syaoran to be her model. Sakura was unsure about it but was convinced that it might be a good idea. On her way out of Fuji's office, she was stopped by Meiling and her friends.

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**Chapter Sixteen**

**-----------------------------**

Sakura felt two strong hands grasping her fragile arms; their nails digging deep into the thin fabric of her school uniform and flesh. Her arms were probably bruised by now, but she could have not cared less. She had been through treatment worse than this at the asylum anyway.

When she tried to look up, all she saw was a blurred image of a dark haired girl, before a piece of black fabric blocked her eyes. Sakura opened her mouth to demand her release, but nothing came out as her lips were covered by something sticky, which she could only conclude as masking tape.

"Take her to the sports supplies room." One of her kidnappers finally spoke out. Her voice was smooth but cold and powerful, leaving no room for discussion or questioning. Sakura gulped a little, feeling the cold sweat forming on her forehead as she was dragged away by the girl's comrades.

An unfamiliar darkness surrounded her, a gut feeling told her what was going to happen next could get really ugly. The air in the room was heavy, whispering a nameless fear. It drifted around aimlessly, entangling her.

Sakura'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared.

What did they want from her? She didn't remember crossing anyone's path in this school yet except the ones of Syaoran, Hiro and Eriol. But if she didn't have any enemies, why would they tie her up?

Before Sakura could figure out the reason for her abduction, she was thrown onto the ground.

Her back hit the floor hard, and the back of her head smashed against the concrete floor. Moaning in pain, she slowly attempted to move the arm that contacted the ground first but a sharp pain shoot up her body.

Tears filled up in her eyes, but it never slid down her cheeks. She wanted to be strong, tough and fearless. She couldn't possibly expose her weaknesses to them. It would only work against her.

Gnawing at the corner of her mouth, she blindly surveyed the room, using her other four senses instead of her sight.

The smell of danger and fear saturated the room. Her heart was pounding frantically, and she could feel her breathing pattern becoming more uneven and heavy. Clenching her small hands into fists, she told herself to stay calm. The pain of her nails digging into her sweaty palms helped to clear off her mind.

Time continued to tick by, and the room seemed to have dropped a few degrees when she heard the sound of the door shutting and locking.

Lying unmoved, Sakura used the time to recollect herself and put up her usual icy defenses again. It was her only defense against them.

For moments, she waited, listened, giving her ears the job of her eyes. Even in this pitch blackness, without sight, she could still hear.

One of the girls made a displeased sound and then followed the clicks of heels against the concrete floor.

Sakura frowned slightly. Who could be wearing high heels in door when all of them were told to wear white indoor shoes? After all, it was part of the school regulation that wearing white indoor shoes was mandatory for all students.

It was then, the person came into a stop. Sakura kept her eyes closed, and waited.

"Kinomoto Sakura…desu ka ne?" The person's voice was soft, like silk trailing across a knife's edge. But the underlying sharpness and danger laced within that harmless query weren't hard to miss.

The girl chuckled slightly in mockery. "Look at yourself, you're beyond pitiful." She strolled over to Sakura's side and untied the blindfold that covered her eyes.

Sakura turned to her way, glaring into the scarlet red orbs that burned like eternal flames. They were a color of deep redness, like the boundless ruby ocean, dangerous and unpredictable.

"I'm surprised that Syaoran would even hang out with a plain girl like you." She sneered, eyes full of taunt and disdain.

"Maybe it's just a change of taste?" The girl with scarlet eyes thought out loud, directing the question at no one in particular while raising one of her pretty eyebrows.

"I guess you can't really blame him for getting tired of all those airhead-cheerleaders. If I were him, I would probably have been bored to death."

She cast a brief glance at Sakura's way, but found her as silent and sedate as ever. Meiling couldn't help but feel her temper rising. She just couldn't believe how that girl could still remain so collective and calm after all her provocation. She could sense Sakura's fear, but she wanted to see more.

She wanted to see Sakura's tears, hear her cries. It would make her feel more triumphant and satisfied. Her eyes have been wandering across the quiet painter's face quite a while now, and found nothing unique about it that could catch Syaoran's interest.

But somehow, Syaoran found her special. And it felt like a stab in her chest.

The pain was endless, mixed with helplessness and sorrow. It made her feel pathetic how Syaoran could never return her feelings. All those years she had stood by his side, assisting him silently when he needed help.

Syaroan wasn't the type to ask others for help because he was too proud, but she aided him when necessary anyway. Meiling never told him the things she has done for him. She didn't ask him to return any of those favors, nor has she asked him for anything. Staying by his side forever and ever was all she wanted.

It was true that Syaoran never liked her the way she liked him, and she knew it for a fact.

All his life, he had tried to push her away; because in his eyes, she was nothing but an annoying cousin and an unwanted fiancé. Yelan was the one who arranged this marriage, but since he couldn't blame his mother for it, he blamed her instead.

But she never minded his hurtful words, because as long as he was happy, she was too.

As his cousin, she knew him better than anyone else, that he hated it when others tried to meddle with his life. He never believed in destiny or fate. He believed he should be able to control his own life and fate. She still remembered what he told her years ago when they were young, "My destiny is in my hand, and I'm responsible for whatever happens in my life."

At that moment, she fell hard for him; at that very instance, she knew he was going to be her one and only love. Her feelings for him have always been complicated. Admiration, idolization, childhood infatuation—all those led to love.

She loved him, but he never loved her back.

It hurt. It hurt so much. But she didn't mind, because Syaoran never showed any interest in girls. And now, all of a sudden, everything was changed. Syaoran had fallen for this pathetic, plain, silent girl. He might not have realized it yet, but it was evident in his eyes when her name was mentioned and it ripped her heart into half.

It wasn't fair. All those years—those feelings she had for him, all those things she had done for him… earned her nothing but a disdainful look from him.

Meiling bit her lower lip, tasting her own blood.

Life wasn't fair. The girl before her did nothing for him, yet she gained Syaoran's full attention.

Kinomoto Sakura had everything she wanted, dreamed of having. Everything that she couldn't have.

It wasn't fair. And Sakura wasn't even special.

Meiling pressed her lips tightly together angrily, looking irascible. "If you think staying mute is going to get you out of this; you're dead wrong." Meiling threatened harshly, gritting her teeth before standing up again.

"Aiko and Yume, pin her down and make sure she can't move." Meiling looked over her shoulder, casting a glance at the two girls standing by the closed door. They muttered a quite hai and inclined their heads in acknowledgement.

Sakura tightened her fists at the command until her knuckles turned white.

"I'm going to teach her a lesson and let her know silent-treatment doesn't work on me." The corners of her lips lifted upward into an evil grin as she approached a horrified Sakura slowly. She took out a lighter from her pocket and Aiko instantly understood what to do.

Aiko tightened her grip around Sakura's thin wrist and forced it out. Sakura's face writhed in pain but she managed fight off the temptation to yelp in pain.

"Aw, look at that hand, so delicate. And those fingers, slender and long. You have really dexterous hands Kinomoto. No wonder your artworks are so beautiful," she complimented Sakura mildly, voice lifting and amused, "but too bad there'll be a few ugly burns on your pretty hands."

Sakura opened her mouth in shock, and Meiling looked more than just pleased at her reaction as she saw Sakura's eyes training on the lighter. "If you have to blame someone for your ugly burns, then blame yourself for bothering _my _Syaoran." Meiling's expression darkened instantly at the mentioning of Syaoran, her fiancé.

No one could steal Syaoran away from her. No one.

"Just because he paid a little more attention to you doesn't mean you are special! Nor does it mean he likes you. I know Syaoran better than you, because we grew up together; because he's my cousin and fiancé. But _you_, on the other hand, are just a classmate to him." Meiling declared, pointing a finger brusquely at Sakura.

It was a lie however. Syaoran didn't just pay a _little_ more attention to Sakura; he gave her his undivided attention. He was attracted to her, liked her, and treated her more than just a friend or a classmate. But Meiling would never tell her that. _Never_.

"Don't overestimate yourself Kinomoto. You're only a toy to him. After he's done playing with you, he'll come back to my side again." Meiling snapped in an infuriated tone, still scowling at her. "I know him better than anyone else. He gains interest in things fast and loses that interest fast as well." She let out an apathetic laugh.

Sakura bit her lower lip, reminding herself that she shouldn't cry in front of people like Meiling. It would only make things worse and encourage the endless bullying. _Tolerate it, pretend they're stupid._ She repeated in her heart.

Meiling was trying to provoke her and make her loose her cool. But too bad it wasn't going to work, because she was smarter than that.

All the things she said about Syaoran… she couldn't say she didn't have her doubts. She wasn't stupid enough to flatter herself by thinking that he had romantic interests in her. Besides, she didn't believe in love. She saw the tragic ending of her parents' marriage and that had taught her a lesson.

Nadeshiko and Fujitaka were high school sweethearts. Their story was a modern fairytale. The beautiful princess fell in love with the handsome prince. They married and had two beautiful children. Everything seemed to perfect, so right, so in place. But nothing was like what it seemed.

Beneath the cover of perfection laid layers of flaws.

Fairytale ends. Passions grows fainter as the day passes by. That is life, constantly changing and ending. Nothing can stay the same for a very long time because of the way people are.

Their broken marriage was the perfect example of what happened when love was challenged by the battering time. It further proved the theory that nothing lasts forever in this world, and that there is no such thing as an eternal love.

Love is delicate and shatters easily. It cannot withstand the battle of time.

Sakura didn't want to get hurt. The only way to protect herself from that was to stay away from such feelings. She didn't want to fall in love, didn't want to experience love, didn't want to find her supposed Prince Charming.

Unlike the other girls around her age, she wasn't interested in romance. A simple, quiet life was all she wanted.

Was it too much to ask for?

Why did Syaoran have to step into her world? Why did their paths have to cross? Why did she see the black wings on his back? Why did a part of her want to believe in him?

Rather, when did she start caring about what he did and the type of person he was?

If she was given another chance, she would probably have chosen the other road—the path of solitude. Being a loner was her destiny. Painting and sketching were the two things she ever liked, and they kept her in company for all those years when she was abandoned by the world.

All she ever wanted to do was to stay invisible and draw, paint the pictures in her mind and stay away from the tainted, sinful world. But he just had to come along and mess up her simple life.

"Are you scared Kinomoto? That your pretty hands are going to have some ugly, disgusting burns?" Meiling's taunt pulled Sakura out of her thoughts. Emerald green eyes widening with horror as she saw the lighter approaching the tips of her fingers.

She could feel its warmth and danger.

Closing her eyes and lowering her head, she still refused to make a sound.

So this was fate.

She didn't really mind ugly burns or wounds on her hand. As long as her hands could still have their usual functions, she really didn't mind. After all, the appearance of her hands didn't affect the quality of her artwork.

"Meiling, just by burning her hands isn't going to teach her a lesson." Aiko, whom has been quiet for the beginning suddenly pointed out, "I say we should just smash her hand so she can never hold another pencil again."

Sakura drew a sharp breath, tilting her head at Aiko's direction and staring at her in disbelief, but only to receive a cold glare from Aiko. They knew being able to draw and paint was important to her; they knew that she needed her hands to accomplish that simple task. That was why they wanted to smash her hands…

How could they do that? Despair and impotence surfaced in Sakura's emerald green orbs. The slightest changes in her facial expression were caught by Meiling's sharp eyes, causing her smirl to widen.

"Let me ask you this again. Are you scared yet?" Meiling leaned forward until her face was only inches away from Sakura's. She wanted to see fear flashing in those limpid green crystals, and to see the quite girl loose her collectiveness, admitting in defeat.

The feeling of satisfaction slowly aroused in Meiling's perturbed heart.

Sakura avoided her scarlet eyes and kept her gaze on the floor. Her vision was slowly becoming unclear. Crystal tears were pilling up in her eyelid, threatening to spill out. But she fought it back, held back the sob that was caught in her throat forcefully by biting her lower lip.

"Hmm, so you're still not willing to give in eh?" Sakura could hear the implicit danger and harshness in Meiling's query, but didn't reply. She won't give Meiling the satisfaction she wanted.

"Fine, be as stubborn as you want." Meiling grounded out through gritted teeth. "Aiko, get me those dumbbells. I'll see how long she can stay silent." She pointed a hand at the dumbbells on the floor of the sports supplies room, and gestured Aiko to pick one up. _Don't test my patience Kinomoto, or all you'll get is pain._ She thought bitterly.

Aiko passed a dumbbell to Meiling and a cruel smile bloomed on Meiling's glossed lips as she played with the dumbbell in her hand. "Saa… let's hear some screams."

Sakura watched Aiko holding out her hand against the floor and Meiling raising the dumbbell into the air.

Smashing her hand was only a matter of time.

……

The sunlight which filtered through Syaoran's spread fingers looked spotted and yet glaringly bright at instances, it wasn't often that the sun was this bright and its light this intensive. After all, it was already late autumn. He kept his hand lifted against the canopy, until his arm began to tire, before lowering it and turning to gaze lazily at the person next to him.

Tugging at the wet shirt that was sticking to his skin, Syaoran brushed aside the messy bangs that fell into his eyes. It felt good to relax and lean against a cherry blossom tree after an intensive game of basketball, and Eriol seemed pretty exhausted too.

"How come you're not hanging out with Sakura today? Don't you always hang out with her at lunch in these days?" Eriol drawled lazily, his voice sounded slightly husky as he carefully studied Syaoran's expression from the corner of his eyes while trying to slow down his uneven breathing and body's metabolism.

"She got called out during Japanese Literature class earlier." Replied Syaoran mildly, eyes gazing into the distant sky. It was unnaturally blue; faint and crystal clear, with a few fleeting clouds on adrift. Endless. Boundless. Like a pale blue silk stretched across the horizon. So blue, so pure—and such purity was ephemeral.

Just like her.

He didn't understand why, but everywhere he looked reminded him of her. It was just one lunch time without her, yet he already felt like it was an eternity. Why did he care so much about her anyway?

She never replied to the questions he asked her, or commented on any of his jokes. She was always silent, distant and mysterious, delicate yet unbreakable.

There was just something serene about her that made her stood out and attracted him, pulling him toward her. Was it really "like", as Meiling had so nicely put it? Did he really fall for a girl like her? For all he knew, they were two different people, occupying the opposite ends of the spectrum of life.

But their worlds collided, so suddenly, so ambiguously.

Fate was it? Or destiny?

He didn't know.

He didn't believe in either one of them.

Shaking his head slightly to clear off his mind, Syaoran blamed it on the adrenalin rush.

"Yah I know, but I saw her walking back from the teacher's lounge after the bell rang. And Meiling, Aiko and some other girl were talking to her." Eriol ran a hand through his wet blue hair, retelling what he saw before he left for lunch.

Syaoran's half-closed eyes suddenly snapped open. He sat up abruptly and whipped his head around to face Eriol, gawking at his friend in horror as if he had just seen a ghost passing by. "What do you mean you saw Meiling talking to Sakura!"

Eriol shifted away from Syaoran slightly, covering his left ear. "Don't yell so loud Syaoran, I'm not deaf you know." He replied half-jokingly. Eriol couldn't help but turn a lingering gaze to the boy next to him, and saw that Syaoran was staring at him with darkened amber eyes.

Eriol realized that he was serious about the question.

Closing his eyes and leaning back, Eriol sighed in defeat, "I just saw them talking to her that's all. And then they walked off to the sports supplies room I think…but I'm not sure. Since when did they become friends anyway?..." Eriol paused after hearing no responses or retorts from Syaoran, he reopened his eyes and flickered up a glance at Syaoran's way, but only found his spot empty.

Chuckling lightly in faint amusement, Eriol continued to relax under the tree.

_Syaoran'll find her alright, and maybe realize that it is more than just attraction that ties them together._ Eriol thought to himself. _And now, I shall think about my Tomoyo-Chan._

Under the cherry blossom tree, Eriol hummed an artless tune, relaxing as if it was just any ordinary day.

……

"You know Kinomoto, it's gonna hurt a bit, so if you want to cry, feel free to do so. I don't mind." Meiling jeered, keeping her hand where it was.

Glaring down at Sakura, she waited for the typical reaction of a scared girl. Of course, she didn't really plan on smashing her fingers. It was just an act to scare Sakura and warn her that it wasn't a smart move to mess with Li Meiling.

But surprisingly enough, even under such threats, Sakura still remained silent.

Reaching the limit of her tolerant capacity, Meiling became infuriated. Sakura's silence was more than just offensive to her now. It was mocking her, irking her endlessly. Exasperated, Meiling raised her hand higher up into the air and then suddenly dropped it, aiming at the delicate, tapered fingers on the dirty ground.

Sakura suddenly tilted her head upward, emerald green eyes aligning with fierce rubies fearlessly even though eye-stinging dusts were sparkling in the corners of her eyes. "Even if you smash my hands, I can still draw if I want to. As long as I have the determination to paint."

She was challenging Meiling.

"I know someone who lost their limps in a car accident, yet that girl still managed to play hockey even without her arms. I know I can do it too. If you smash my right hand, I can still draw with my left hand, and if you smash both of my hands. I can still hold a pencil with my mouth."

Sakura's soft words resonated in the heavy air causing something to flash through the depth of Meiling's eyes. Shock and disbelief were written all over her face. The scornful look, despises and aggravations all vanished without a trace. The hand that was holding onto the dumbbell froze just inches away from Sakura's hand.

"If I'm determined to do something, no one can stop me." Sakura declared, even though her tone was mild and smooth, Meiling could still hear the underlying adamancy vibrating hauntingly in the heavy air. The words were easily whisked away to the corners of the room, and left a stunned Meiling behind, looking petrified and appalled.

She thought Sakura was weak, frail, and delicate like a glass. Easily broken. But she was wrong.

Sakura was the second person who had displayed such courage in front of her, such admirable determination. Meiling recalled on seeing the same kind of determination and strong will in a familiar pair of amber eyes too.

Overwhelmed, and bewildered by the strong similarities she saw between the painter in front of her and the young man she had come to love over the years.

No wonder they were fatally attracted to each other.

They had their similarities after all.

The dumbbell slipped from Meiling's hand and dropped to the ground, rolling away from them until it bumped into something and stopped. Meiling continued to gape at Sakura, looking dazed and ignoring the concerned looks from Aiko and Yume.

"Meiling…" Aiko asked in a subtle voice, but Meiling didn't seem to have heard her. Reaching out a hand, Aiko tugged at Meiling's sleeve lightly. The force applied was just enough to catch her attention.

Blinking a few times, Meiling regained her collectiveness. She stood up, dusting off the dirt on her skirt and gestured Aiko and Yume to let go of Sakura. "Let this time be a warning to you. I won't be as nice the next time." Meiling admonished. She gave Sakura one long meaningful look before strutting off with Aiko and Yume by her side.

Sakura let out a sigh of relief and felt herself falling toward the floor. The strength she had gathered from her body a moment ago to give that declaration was all used up now. Her body didn't even have enough strength to support her. Hugging her right hand, she caressed it with her other hand and closed her eyes again, letting the tears to roll down her cheeks.

She had held them long enough.

For a moment there, she almost thought she would lose her hand forever. It was true that she could train herself to draw with the help of her mouth if she had lost her hands, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared at the thought of losing them.

The door swung open abruptly with a loud bang and Sakura intuitively directed her gaze at the source of all the commotion. There, she saw a chestnut haired young man standing at the door, panting hard; his chest rising and falling unrhythmically.

He then dashed toward her, arms wrapped around her shivering body; his face buried in the curve of her neck, inhaling in the sweet and faint scent that belonged to her only. Sakura literally froze on the spot. Her eyes widened with shock. She could feel the warmth of his body seeping through the thick material of his uniform.

The smell of sweat and masculinity filled her nostrils. The feeling was so comforting and she almost felt she could trust him with her life. "Meiling…didn't do anything to you, did she?" His muffled voice suddenly brought her back to reality, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Let me protect you, Sakura." It was a quite request, but it sounded like he was begging her. His embrace was so tight and offered her so much protection, warmth, indulgence, unsaid promises…and something more. Sakura closed her eyes and relaxed her tense body, letting him hold her protectively as if she was a delicate porcelain doll.

Just for this moment, all she wanted to do was to let him protect her, be her shelter in the storm. She rested her head against his sturdy, well-built shoulder and used her heart to feel his strong heartbeats. Baa-bum, baa-bum—so even and steady.

This was the embrace of her dark angel. All her worries, fears, were taken away by his mere presence, because she knew he would watch over her and keep her save in his arms.

Time had stopped in that single frame. The world faded away—became unimportant.

Nothing else mattered at this moment, _because he was with her._

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A/N: Ahem, long chappie for my long disappearance. -Cough- I'm back on track again and my old policy of weekly update resumes again. The next few chapters will be errm…purely SxS…and um, fluff. I think I'm gonna need my Tylenol when I write those chappies. -Sweatdrop-

Now this is the part when I ask shamelessly for reader's forgiveness and **reviews**. –Gleeful smile-

Excuse the obvious mistakes will ya? I'm as blind as a bird.


	17. Chapter 17

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi _

**--------------------------------**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**--------------------------------**

Sakura leaned against the rough surface of a tree trunk and watched the falling leaves idly; a hand tracing lazy, feather-light circles with a fingertip and occasionally poking at the Mashimaro picture on her bento box.

The warmth of her lunch seeped through the thin plastic of her bento box, heating up her cold, slightly numbed fingertips.

Taking a deep breathe, she relaxed herself and gave into the gentle caress of the slightly chilly wind of late autumn and early winter. She liked the feeling of the cool and slightly crisp air blowing against her face; the smell of mustiness in the air.

The sight of falling leaves, all painting a scene which was almost like a picture dream, vague and full of rich colors that warmed the heart. Dead leaves fluttered in the air before her, dancing jovially to an unheard tune of a season's end. She closed her eyes, then inhaled, deep.

Another season was coming to an end, yet the transition was vague—almost too unnoticeable. The chill was near, and the dead season was arriving rapidly on wintry wings.

It was the only season where the changes were slow and sleep-like, caught up with the lull after a busy season. Sakura brushed aside the bangs that fell into her eyes, delicate fingertips leaving butterfly-light touches across her pale, almost colorless skin.

She sat in solemn silence as she watched the leaves fall, witnessing deaths, and watching the season pass her by. Those fallen leaves, she recalled, looked withered and lifeless. They danced in the cold, refreshing air, like millions of butterflies flapping over the field.

It looked like the sky was raining auburn colored leaves. The image was mesmerizing, like a picture out of a fairytale.

For some strange reasons, she couldn't find herself drawn to its beauty like she normally would. Something was missing, or rather, someone was missing. Her gaze shifted to the empty spot beside her, an unfamiliar feeling tugged at her heartstrings as if she was expecting someone.

He wasn't here today. She noted mildly.

She really should be celebrating it right now, that he has finally had enough with her silence and stopped coming to annoy the heck out of her. But she wasn't. She didn't feel the joy. Just emptiness, as if there was a small hole in her heart.

Sakura slapped her forehead lightly, just hard enough to knock some senses into her head. Pleasant tranquility, solitude and painting the world were the only things she wanted in life. He crashed into her life unexpectedly, disrupted her quiet lifestyle.

And now, he wasn't around anymore. She really should be happy, right?

But then why was her heart missing something or rather, someone? Why was she subconsciously missing his annoying babblings? Why was she suddenly finding all this quietness a little uncomfortable?

Did she really get used to having him around and that all of a sudden, when he stopped showing up, she started to feel slightly delirious?

Rubbing her temples, Sakura decided to ignore the thoughts in her head and occupy herself with something else. She took out a sheet of paper which says Japanese Literature Assignment 3 on it. It was another to-be-handed-in assignment for the poetry unit.

She hated writing poems, because she couldn't see how writers say they could use words to express their feelings and deepest thoughts. It just didn't work the same for her. Words are delusive; words could lie.

Emerald green eyes scanning through the introduction paragraph on the sheet and stopped at the procedures part. She could pick her own them and write a poem about it. It had to contain some personal experience though.

Sakura then took out a crumbled piece of paper, and stared at it. It was a poem she wrote in class today when she was brain storming ideas for her poetry assignment. The idea just hit her like that and she scribbled it down immediately.

Her eyes stopped at the line "_I do not dream, for dreams only lead to nightmares._"

Images of a floor covered by a thick blanket of scarlet red liquid, a pair of hollow gray eyes that were hauntingly beautiful, a smile that was mixed with sadness and mockeries of the world, and a pale, bloodless face that belonged to none other than her mother, Nadeshiko.

Shaking her head violently, Sakura tried to get the images out of her head. She didn't want to see it again. Her mother's cold body covered with blood, and those hollow eyes, those expressionless gray eyes.

She didn't want remember. But those images were imprinted in her mind. She could never forget them, or put them behind her.

That piece of memory would always remain at the back of her head, coming back to haunt her until the end of time, torturing her psychologically until it breaks her threadbare sanity.

Tilting her head towards the slightly grayish sky, Sakura tried to fill her mind with other thoughts, other things that would distract her. She watched the sheets of clouds drift slowly away to the far away horizon, their edges tinted slightly blue and grayish.

As if the wistful sheets of clouds had a soul-calming affect, Sakura felt her restlessness finally settling down. Her eyelids seemed to have gained a few pounds as she relaxed herself again, giving into the embrace of Mother Nature.

Closing her tired eyes, she allowed herself to slowly fade into the pleasant tranquility and becoming a part of it. Perhaps it was time to catch up on some of the sleep she had lost in the past few days.

Sleepiness took over her body. Her mind drifted away to the border between half-consciousness and tired slumber, and slowly fell into the realms of dreams—a place which she feared for so many years at the asylum, because it held all of her darkest memories.

And she remembered…

Their apartment wasn't exactly large, but it gave a stark, cold welcome, harsh lights beating all too brightly against her bleary eyes. Colors blurred, contours melt into shapeless masses that vaguely resembled where she lived.

"Okaasan, taidaima! (Mom, I'm back!)" The younger version of Sakura called out, her soft voice sounded exceptionally loud in the ghostly silent apartment.

Her breath echoed dully in the empty space between the walls; the faint flicker of hope at the sight of glowing lights died upon her first, quick glance around.

After receiving no replies, Sakura shrugged out of her coat, kicked off her shoes and turned a blank stare at the floor beneath her feet. She should have gotten used to this already. Her mother had stopped replying "welcome home" with a loving smile a while ago.

Frankly speaking, she didn't even know if her mother was home any more. During the day, Nadeshiko was either locked up in her room or somewhere else which Sakura didn't know of. She said she had a few jobs, never specifically said what they were and where she worked.

Sakura had stopped asking a long time ago anyway.

It was as if they led separate lives. The only thing that tied them together was the apartment and their relationship of being biological mother and daughter. Other than that, they were distant from each other. One could almost mistake them as strangers.

Placing her bag on the floor, she headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water and then strolled out the kitchen and towards her bedroom with a half-filled glass in her hand. But she stopped in the hallway as she saw her mother's room's door left half unclosed.

Perplexed, she tiptoed across the floor and stopped right in front of Nadeshiko's bedroom.

It was strange for her mother to leave it open like this, since she always kept it closed. Sakura's eyebrows scrunched together in a frown of contemplation as she debated with herself on whether of not she should check up on her mother for her odd behavior.

Inhaling deeply, Sakura reached out a hand to give the wooden door a little push. There, she saw Nadeshiko dressed in her favorite white gown.

Nadeshiko's was standing by the opened window with her back facing Sakura. The room was so quiet that even a drop of a needle could sound exceptionally loud.

Sakura didn't move. She stood still, watching, thinking, wondering what Nadeshiko was up to this time.

Through the open window, the wind darted in – a ruthless, freezing touch through the sweat-damp clothes on her back. Sakura bit her lower lip. "o…kasan?" Her voice was subtle and filled with uncertainity.

Silence and stillness, with the occasional hisses of the wintry chills and nothing more; there was still no reply. Sakura took the time to study this Nadeshiko, whom seemed so familiar yet strange at the same time.

Nadeshiko's hair was the color of ashes. The long, tumbling curls—like midnight waterfalls, cascaded over her shoulder, giving her the appearance of a divine and exotic goddess. The long locks were afloat in the air as a gust of whirled through the open window.

Her profile looked so fragile and frangible, like a china doll, delicate and ethereal. Sakura wondered how such delicate form could withstand the battering of the chilly wind without shattering right there. Suddenly, Nadeshiko looked over her shoulder.

Her face was like watercolor; soft lines that flowed like melted snow down aspens. Her eyes were the color of splendor: a dark malleable tint, esoteric and ornate. Like sapphires made from the light of midnight fireflies. Her lashes were long and dark, making a striking contrast with her pale skin—like ceramic, so endless and pure and smooth, flowing like water.

The corner of her mouth lifted just so ever slightly, curling into a smile full of despair and mockeries, as if she was laughing at the world for its unfairness and its apathy.

"I'm sorry Sakura-Chan…I just wanted you to be happy…But all I can bring you is pain…I'm so sorry…" Her voice was shaking and the smile on her face waned, evident sadness surfacing in her eyes.

"I couldn't protect Touya…I was responsible for what happened to him… it was all my fault…and now, I'm doing the same thing to you …I'm sorry Sakura…" Crystal clear tears were beginning to form in her dark, tired eyes. There were bags under those beautiful grayish sapphire eyes. She was tired; she had enough with it.

"I just want you to be happy…I just want to see you smile again… But because of me, you stopped smiling…stopped laughing… just like Touya…It's all my fault. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong here." Tears streamed down her white, almost colorless cheeks as she muttered on.

"It's…not true Okaasan." Sakura wasn't sure what to do. She wanted to run toward Nadeshiko and hug her, bring warmth to her frozen, numbed body. But for some unknown reasons, she couldn't move, as if her feet had been glued to the ground. No matter how hard she tried to step forward, she just couldn't.

The Nadeshiko before her seemed so unfamiliar, as if she was someone else.

"Sakura…" Nadeshiko called out softly, turning around, revealing the kitchen knife in her hand. Sakura felt her blood running cold as she spotted the silvery, metallic, sharpened tip of the knife. Survival instincts kicked in and Sakura took a step backward, her body on high alert.

"I just want you to be happy…" Nadeshiko trailed off, her broken voice fading into a whisper, barely audible. Raising her hand, she brought the knife up to where her heart was and pierced through it. Sakura's eyes widened with horror, her jaws dropped to the ground; she literally froze at where she was standing.

Scarlet liquid rushed out of Nadeshiko's chest as she fell backward. Leaning against the wall for support, she slowly slid down the cold wall, dying it a bright red color, leaving a trail of blood behind. Her gown was now the color of a red, blooming rose. The blood quickly seeped through thin material of her dress, drenching it.

The contrast of red and white was striking. Almost too beautiful to exist in this world.

Not knowing what to do, Sakura was too stunned to think. Her mind was blank.

It was then the sound of Nadeshiko falling to the floor snapped her out of the state of shock. Sakura's body was trembling violently as she ran toward the nearest phone and shakily dialed the emergency number.

Upon nearing the operator's force, Sakura cried out helplessly, almost begging the operator. "Help me please! My mother is dying! There's so much blood on the floor, please help me!"

Her nails dug into the plastic material of the phone, gripping it so tightly as if it was the last thread of her life.

"It's…okay…Sakura…" Nadeshiko breathed weakly with great difficulty. "I don't belong here…"

"I'll…watch over you…and protect you…from high above…" More blood rushed out of her chest, but she didn't seem to mind it. There was a gentle smile on her face—the smile Sakura thought she'd never see again.

That smile belonged to her mother only. And for a moment there, Sakura felt like she had found her mother again—the one who said she loved her, and the one who told her stories of the dark angel when she was little.

Nadeshiko laid peacefully in the pool of blood, letting the life drain from of her body.

Forgetting about the phone call, Sakura dashed towards the pale Nadeshiko, holding her tightly in her arms. She couldn't let her mother slip away from her hands again, she had just found her.

Feeling her vision becoming blurry by the seconds, tears spilled out of her eyes uncontrollably. "Ikanaide okaasan, onegai! (Don't go mom, please)" Sakura begged, sobbing.

She was scared by the thought of losing Nadeshiko again. Ever since they moved to Tokyo, she felt like the Nadeshiko she knew was slipping away, along with her loving smiles, light-hearted laughter. It was ironic how she was back again, but just before the end of her life.

Smiling mildly, Nadeshiko looked at her in the eyes lovingly, reaching out a bloodstained hand to wipe away Sakura's tears. "Aishiteru…anata wo dare yori sora yori…mo fukaku, Sakura. (I love you more than any one else, more deeply than the sky Sakura)" The soft soprano-like voice was easily whisked away to the corners of the silent room.

The hand that was raised into the air suddenly dropped to the ground as the last word rolled off the tip of her tongue. Nadeshiko's eyes became hollow and empty, her face as white as the snow and her lips were the color of gray—the saddest shade of gray.

Her heart had stopped beating.

"Okaasan!" Sakura cried out, shaking Nadeshiko's shoulder frantically. Her voice was coarse and her eyes were full of disbelief and denial and an endless sorrow. "Ikanaide okaasan! Koko ni ite! Onegai!(Don't go, okaasan, please stay)" But Nadeshiko didn't seem to have heard her.

_namida ga ato kara afuredashite, saigo no egao ga nijinde mienai no…okaasan, ikanaide…onegai (As my tears keep overflowing one after another, I can't see your last smile through their blur…okaasan, please don't go…) _

Everything was fading away into the darkness.

She was lost. She was alone once again.

Don't go! She wanted to scream out loud, but nothing came out.

"oi, wake up, Sakura!" She heard a distant, concerned voice. A warm hand attempted to brush aside her falling tears. She grabbed the welcoming hand and held it tightly against her tearstained cheeks, not wanting to let go of the last source of warmth.

"Don't go okaasan…don't leave me, I don't want to be alone…okaasan!" Sakura begged between her sobs; her fragile shoulder was shaking.

It was then she felt a hand circling around her waist, pulling her into a warm embrace. She buried her face into the person's well-built chest, a hand holding onto the material of his shirt.

"Shhhh it's okay, it was just a nightmare." He whispered softly, assuring her that everything was going to be okay. "I'm here for you, you're not alone." He murmured, trailing his hand down her back in feather-light touches to slow down her violent sobbing and sniffling.

Sakura stopped struggling, in his arms, she felt safe and protected. She adjusted her breathing until it was even and slow.

Relaxing her tense muscles, she fell back into a deep slumber with a small smile on her tearstained face. It was probably her dark angel. She thought. He was protecting her, offering her a shoulder to cry on, to lean against.

With him around her, she no longer felt alone.

Syaoran looked down at the sleeping girl in his arm and studied her beautiful complexion. Trails of tears were still visible on her pale skin. It pained him to see her like this.

Even though he often complained to Eriol about her expressionless face, but he wanted to see her smile, like she had done so in the family portrait he saw at her house.

He didn't know what caused such dramatic change in her personality, but he wanted to change her back to the person she was before. It even scared him at first how strong this desire was. Maybe Meiling was right, maybe he was attracted to her…

But fatal attraction or not, the bottom line was he wanted to stay by her side, and get to know this talented artist better.

She was always distant from everyone else. Like the far away Northern Star, she was bright, but alone. Every time he tried to get closer to her, she pushed him away, saying how she didn't need anyone in her life.

But he knew that her toughness and coldness were just a way to hide her scarred heart. Unlike many other girls he met, she liked to keep things to herself, carrying the burden alone.

The reason for her actions was unimportant, insignificant to him. All he wanted to do was to help her, help her carry that heavy burden—whatever it is.

Running a hand through her honey colored hair, the silken strands slid pass his fingers like the smoothest silk. He caressed her gently, holding her protectively in his arms as if she was a delicate china doll.

It was then he spotted a crumbled paper ball on her lap. Puzzled, he scrutinized it for a moment with curious eyes and decided to take a look at what it was. He reached over for it and smoothed it out with his hands. It read.

_Black Wings_

_By: Kinomoto Sakura _

_  
I do not dream,_

_For dreams only lead to nightmares._

_I do not hope,_

_For hope only leads to death._

_I glide aimlessly through life,_

_Silently and unseen._

_Like a shadow in the dark._

_Like a ghost through time._

_And I wait patiently for the dark angel,_

_The man with black wings to save me,_

_From my life and from my death. _

_A dark angel…eh?_ Syaoran's gaze fell upon Sakura's peaceful face. "Then let me be your dark angel, Sakura."

There was no reply from the sleeping figure, only a quiet muffle was heard as she shifted slightly.

Syaoran's smile enlarged.

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A/N: Second update this week. I'm being good again. -Smiles- Can I get my review and chocolate hearts now? –Holds out a hand and asks her readers shamelessly-

A special thanks goes out to selina-m! You're a real sweetie :P always gives me such long encouraging and analytical reviews. –Huggles and squeezes- ME LUB YOU!

Oh, and the poem isn't written by me (like I'm poetic enough to write something that goodie). It's written by Tella, a reader of Black Wings and she said chapter 8 inspired her into writing that poem, so all the credits go out to her. -smiles- (To make sure it follows the FF.N rules, she has granted me the permission to copy and past her poem in this story, so no suing me ne? I have obtained her permission legally -holds out a stack of documents-)

Pure SxS moments in the next chappie. Don't know if there'll be enough fluff to satisfy you guys, knowing me and my angsty brain…but I'll try. Hard. Very hard.

In the meantime, if you wanna a faster update, remember to review and let me know howwww muchie you lub me XP buwahahah!


	18. Chapter 18

**Edit (Saturday, September 23, 2006): **_Endless Sorrow_, by Hamasaki Ayumi is going to be official theme song of _Black Wings_. It is a pretty old song but it conveys the relationship between Sakura and Syaoran. It focuses on Syaoran's feelings toward Sakura and the metaphorical "dark angel". The Japanese lyrics is provided on my CCS fic-journal, as well as its English translation. The link where you can download it is there too, so check it out if you're interested. I apologize for the alerts many of you got for this story, ahem, 'cause some idiot here (looks down at her feet in shame) messed up the chapter replace thing and chapter upload thing. I haven't been sleeping a lot lately, ahem, and I don't have the habit of double-checking things before I do something. Gomen ne everyone!

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter Eighteen**

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A paintbrush dipped into the liquid colors. The contact of its tip with the paint was so brief and light, like butterfly alighting on a leaf. The talented hand and tapered fingers guided the brush, creating powerful and beautiful imageries out of something so simple, and those images, could reach out to the soul of their beholder.

Suddenly, the artistic hand froze in mid air, with the soft tip of the paintbrush still pressed against the surface of the canvas. A pair of emerald green eyes stared at the canvas, looking down at the flawless creation without actually seeing it, as if staring into another dimension that others couldn't see.

Memories of a few weeks ago flashed in her mind, causing her pretty eyebrows to furrow into a deep frown. She somehow fell asleep under a cherry blossom tree in a remote area at the back of Tomoeda Heights, and dreamt of her past that chased after her like the dark shadow of a hooded demon.

All those frightful moments, bloody scenes, frantic heartbeats that grew louder by the passing seconds, and the poisonous air of death and fear that caused her to choke, sucking the life out of her slowly. She didn't want to remember them.

But just when she had no where to run, and when she felt it was the end, an assuring rumbling deep voice chased away the mists of loneliness, death, and eternal darkness that seemed to creep out of everywhere. She felt a strong hand grasping onto her shoulder, holding her tightly in a warm embrace.

It was him, that constantly grinning boy with messy chestnut hair. His smile, like the sun, slowly melted away the ice in her heart. His touch, like the gentle wind of spring, blew new life into her lifeless body that used to be an empty shell. And his aura, so comforting, offered her protection.

But was she willing to trust again? Was she willing to let her scarred, almost dead heart to love again? She didn't know; she didn't want to know.

She had been attempting to avoid him in the past few weeks, because she didn't want to face the embarrassment of awakening in his arms. But her plan failed miserably since he seemed to pop out of everywhere.

The way he looked down at her, was so much different from before. Those endless ambers drew her in, they reflected love and faint sadness. And time—as if put on pause, the world stopped spinning; all motions were frozen in place.

In his eyes, she saw her own reflection: a lost, fragile and confused girl. All her layers of pretense; all her tough acts were stripped away from her face, revealing the real her—someone who didn't want to be left alone, someone who wanted a strong shoulder to lean on.

She always told herself that she was meant to be alone, and that she didn't need anyone because she was tough and could handle the pains on her own. As a result, she pushed away everyone around her ever since her mother's death, because she didn't want to hurt them anymore than she already did.

Her brother was forever in a coma because he saved her from the speeding car. Her mother committed suicide because she blamed herself for Sakura's unhappiness. Her father took up another job on the weekend to make enough money to save money for her university tuition fee. All those who loved her ended up suffering and perpetually living in the grays.

That was why she started to isolate herself in solitary, that was why she stopped speaking, and that was why she turned to painting in her room endlessly. She didn't want to hurt others, and she didn't want to hurt herself. Her heart was too broken to love and trust again.

But then he came along, a boy who represented the sun; a boy who was a symbol of passion and spring. Everyone at Tomoeda Heights idolized him, crowned him as their leader, their prince. He was the knight in shiny armors in girls' eyes, and the guys perceived him as a true samurai.

They all fought for his attentions, but he never looked at them. Instead, he turned his wolf-like amber eyes on her.

_Why me?_ She once asked him, just out of sheer curiosity.

And he said, smiling brightly: _because I'm gravitated towards you_.

It was just a coincidence, a simple brush of shoulders, an unlikely meeting, and what it was meant to be couldn't be far from the actual reality.

He was a wild gang leader, a representation of hope and passion. He was the reincarnation of the God of Sun, Apollo. And she was a quiet painter, distant and aloof, the goddess of winter. Their lives used to be two parallel lines, destined to never meet. But somehow, their paths crossed, defying God and Destiny and laws of physics.

"Are you…really my dark angel?" She mumbled out unsurely, whispering softly to the wind that whirled by so soundlessly, carrying that question miles away until it reached the ears of her dark angel.

"Of course I am, Sakura-chan." A familiar teasing voice came from somewhere above her and Sakura tilted her head immediately. There, she saw a grinning handsome face and soft chestnut hair that wavered under the sun, reminding her so much of the finest golden threads.

"I didn't know you come here on Sundays." Syaoran commented, his tone carrying faint traces of amusement and surprise. He watched her looking away, the familiar expression of indignation creeping back to her usually expressionless face. It made him feel triumphant as the only who could change that seemingly expressionless doll face of hers.

"There are many things you don't know, ouji-sama." The quiet, monotonic, but sarcastic reply that was meant to be offensive, yet it only widened the smile on Syaoran's face.

His hard work was finally paying off.

A few months ago, Sakura would not even talk to him. She only started giving him one word answers a month ago when he bugged her whenever he could. And now, she was even retorting him, and this made him felt accomplished.

Sakura always liked to call him 'oujisama' (prince) when his presence annoyed her. It was the supposedly "honourable" name, given by his official fan club at Tomoeda Heights. When Eriol called him by that nickname, he would bunch that pretty face of Eriol's hard without giving a second thought. But when she called him that, he only felt contentment.

Ever since the "nightmare" incident, he had been trying hard to keep Sakura away from those thoughts. He didn't know what she had experienced in the past that caused her such severe psychological traumas, but he was determined to help her, and be that dark angel in her life.

Just the other day, Eriol teased him about how he was falling in love with Sakura, the mysterious girl who managed to capture his attention. And surprisingly, he didn't deny it. Truthfully, Syaoran had been thinking a lot about his feelings lately, because he wasn't like others, trying to run away from his feelings.

Instead, Syaoran confronted them, and recognized the change that "mere interest" had undergone. At first it was purely attraction, because he had never seen a girl like her before. After he started to hang out with her more, he discovered all kinds of tiny things about her.

The feeling of wanting to protect her, to help her, grew stronger by the passing seconds, and before he knew, it was already too late because he fell hard for her. And now, all he wanted to do was to find out more about her. He wanted to get to know her on a whole different level.

At the same time, she was slowly changing him, as strange as that may sound.

She inspired him into expressing the thoughts that he couldn't express with words. She showed him the beauty in simple everyday objects that he never noticed before, through the simple task of sketching.

Syaoran used to think art was for boring people only and that it was meaningless, but how, arts was beginning to turn into his second favorite subject.

It was all because of her, and he had never felt so strongly about anyone before as he did about her.

But did she feel the same way about him? Would she ever feel the same way about him?

He didn't want to think about it.

Right now, just being by her side was enough for him.

"What are you doing here anyway, with all those displays of your artwork?" Syaoran eyed the various paintings scattered on the shriveled grass. Many passing by strangers gave them a quick glance and rushed on with their life. None ever attempted to stop by and give those paintings their deserved attention.

And this made Syaoran frown.

"It's exactly what it looks like." Sakura answered lackadaisically, treating the situation with indifference as if she was used to it. The truth was, Sakura came here every weekend to paint, while at the same time, selling her finished work to make some money for her university tuition.

She didn't want to place the burden on her aged father.

After all, she thought of herself as an independent young woman who could support herself. However, the money she made from selling her artwork was almost too little to even count as her "weekly income". She thought about getting a job at the Tomoeda Bakery, but she wasn't great at interacting with people.

Drawing, painting in tranquility was all she was good at.

"You're selling your work." Syaoran concluded slowly, with his throat tight. The lone statement hung in the air, and the silence was like a curtain draped about the room, with no one to disturb its thick, oppressive fold. His sharp amber eyes shifted away from the artworks on display and turned to Sakura.

"Why?" He questioned, his voice was no longer light and mild and faintly amused, it became hard and forceful as if he was trying to hold back something. "Why are you selling them?" He pressed on.

"Money." The word rolled off the tip of her tongue easily with the same indifference she carried before, as if he was casually asking her about today's weather. She paused her moving hand that was shading the blue sky on the canvas before her, and whipped her head around to look at him in the eye as if the answer was obvious.

"If it's an emergency, and if you're in some kind of bad predicament, you can always ask me or your friend Tomoyo for help."

Sakura's eyes narrowed slightly and turned her attention back to the canvas. "I don't need anyone's help. I'll make money on my own." Syaoran could hear the iciness in those words even though her tone was soft and silent.

Of course, Sakura had her pride. She was a strong and independent girl. Unlike many other girls around her age, she preferred to depend on herself rather than on others. It was one thing he loved about her. Her toughness. But sometimes, she just had to realize that it was okay to ask her friends for help too.

Syaoran pulled out his cellphone and dialed Eriol's number. "Eriol, bring Hiro to Tomoeda Park A.S.A.P." And hung up as soon as he heard the "hai" he wanted.

Sakura gave him a confused look and he just smiled at her, assuring her that it was nothing. As predicted, Sakura wasn't convinced, but she didn't press on the issue and went back to her work.

In a few minutes, Eriol and Hiro arrived with the engines of their motorcycles roaring like wild lions, drawing the attention of countless people. Sakura fought back the urgency to roll her eyes at their flashy arrival. They always did that, even at school, and the Black Wings Fan Club (lead by the popular cheerleader Arai Yumi) would squeal loudly.

"Yo." Hiro waved a hand at Syaoran as he approached them with a snickering Eriol trailing lazily behind. His gaze swept across the paintings on the ground and frowned slightly. "And I thought something important came up, such as those bastards are bothering you again."

Syaoran promptly ignored the jest in Hiro's tone and turned his attention to Eriol who was enjoying this a bit too much for his own good. "I called you guys here to help Sakura sell all those paintings. I want to see all of them bought by people in this park by dusk." He said in an authoritarian voice.

"No problem, just leave it up to us." Eriol assured, widening the smile on his face.

"I don't need your help." defied the unhappy artist, and Eriol just chuckled since Syaoran obvious ignored Sakura's protests and cast Eriol a "you know what to do" look.

Eriol approached Sakura and asked nicely for a piece of paper and a pen. In a few minutes, he wrote "3 paintings for one kiss" in big bold letters and placed it beside the artworks.

Sakura looked at him as if he had two heads. Syaoran sent him a dry look as if he had expected it coming, knowing Eriol. And Hiro just slapped his forehead, groaning. "Not again." It was the same tactic Eriol used the year before to sell all the cakes Meiling made for their school festival. With the help of Eriol's charms, those disgusting cakes were gone in a second.

"What is he doing?"

"Just leave it up to Eriol, he'll make it work." Before Syaoran could finish his sentence, a bunch of girls who had been watching Eriol and Hiro since their arrival, rushed towards them and started to pick out the paintings they want.

"See?" Syaoran grinned at the shocked Sakura.

"While they're selling your paintings for you, I'll take you to this really great place where you'll feel like you've got nothing to worry about. You can take your sketchbook with you if you want." Without waiting for a reply, Syaoran grabbed her hand and art kit and dragged her toward his motorcycle.

……

The violent gusts of chilly wintry wind howled in her ears, deafening her, while like a thousand needles, striking her cheeks and leaving almost invisible scratches behind. Holding tightly onto Syaoran's motorcycle's seat until her knuckles turned white, she refused to let the wind bring her down.

He offered her the chance to hold on to him, like he had done so many times before when she rode on his motorcycle. But she turned him down, because she was strong.

The noise of the engine roaring and the wind's endless bellows battered her eardrum to a point that she couldn't take the invasive sound anymore. Just when she wanted to let go and cover her ears, the motorcycle came into a stop. Sakura reopened her eyes and saw a smiling Syaoran holding out a hand to help her get off.

Like she had done so many times before, she ignored the helpful hand and got off shakily on her own. Taking off her helmet, she brushed aside the strands of hair that was getting into her eyes and turned to gaze at the source of the loud noise.

There, she was amazed by what she saw.

An enormous silvery plane sped down the runway like a powerful eagle. The faint sunlight that bounced off its wings gave it a blinding shine that caused Sakura to squint her eyes. The gigantic bird howled, announcing its powerful presence and shot into the air in a split of a second.

The dusts and wind left behind the airplane's trail blew against Sakura, tossing her hair into the air relentlessly. Her eyes followed the path of the silvery eagle in flight and watched it disappear into the pale blueness that stretched out from the horizons.

"Incredible isn't it?" Syaoran suddenly asked, speaking out for the speechless, highly amazed Sakura. "It feels like all your troubles and pains have been taken away by the wings of the airplane in flight as it flies towards the limitless sky. I come here a lot, whenever I feel crappy and let the planes take away my worries and stress."

Sakura remained silent, listening to him revealing something personal about himself. At this moment, she realized how soft and soothing his voice was, perfect for storytelling. It made her feel as if the world was somehow perfect and wonderful.

"Just close your eyes and open up your arms, and forget about all your worries. Then watch the plane take off." He instructed. She raised an eyebrow and turned to face him, but only to see a rare childish smile on his face. The smile had almost a purifying and enchanting affect on her, and she felt herself following his instructions unconciously.

Another plane was preparing for take off. Sakura closed her eyes and relaxed herself, feeling the cold gentle touches of the wintry breeze, like cool silk sliding across her skin. She thought hard of all her troubles--all those nightmares that haunted her, and then forced them away from her mind.

The plane was sliding down the runway, its engine's noises carried miles away on the careless wind. _Take away my worries and fears._ Sakura murmured repetitively in her heart and suddenly opened her eyes, just catching the moment when the plane opened up its wings and reached out for the sky high above.

All those weights placed upon her fragile shoulder seemed to have lifted magically. Sakura found it easier to breathe now, strangely enough.

The corners of her mouth lifted upward just slightly, revealing her first smile in six years. Even though the ghostly smile was barely noticeable, Syaoran still spotted it and felt him mesmerized by the sight of it.

She was no longer a lifeless porcelain doll, but a beautiful teenage girl. Her eyes were no longer cold and hollow and impenetrable, but carried a faint sparkle of life, of belief. Even though it was just for one short moment, Syaoran felt like he had found the real Sakura.

"You know, independency doesn't mean 'keeping everything to yourself'. Someone who shares his or her problems with his or her friends doesn't make him or her not independent." Syaoran stared into the distant pale blueness and said.

"Life is a long, arduous journey," he continued on, while watching the clouds on adrift. "No one can walk down the road of life alone. Everyone needs a companion sometimes, and this doesn't make them weak or anything."

It was rare to hear him speak so philosophically of things, and Sakura felt something stirring in her heart as she took a quick glance at him from the corners of her eyes.

Was he her companion on the road of life? Should she trust him? She wondered.

But there was no answer.

Perhaps the answer would reveal itself one day when the right time came. But for now, she just looked away and tilted her head towards the boundless sky, deeply lost in thoughts.

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A/N: Umm. Life has been hectic, and does not permit me to devote too much time into fanfic-writing. However, I will try update as often as possible to keep my stories on track 'cause I'm beginning to forget what some of them are about. -sweatdrop-

Many mentioned how Sakura is portrayed as a weak girl, but if you read this story closely, you will find that underneath that deceptive appearance, she is actually a very strong and independent girl who believed she could take on the world by herself. It is one of the many admirable traits about her that captured Syaoran's attention.

Another thing, many talented artists are participating in the _Black Wings fanart contest_ right now in my SxS Forum, _Faded Dreams_, and it'd be great if you guys can go there and check out those lovely artworks, and nominate the one that you think that is the most suitable for this story, because I'm considering using one of them as the cover of this completed novel. The contest is still open however, until the end of this story, and I will announce the winner in the finale of this fanfic.

This story is actually coming to an end, with only 6 or 7 more chapters to go. Really, it may seem a lot, but it's actually not, comparing to how many chapters this story has so far. I personally think this chappie shows the development of their umm rather strange relationship, and I made Syaoran realize that he's in love with Sakura.

I didn't want to rush into that at first, because it would be too unrealistic that way. The love developed this way is more mature and strong, and can withstand more than the "love at first sight" kind of thing that you see in many other fanfics. Sorry if the romance is slow, but I like to keep things as realistic as possible because I believe a good story has to reach out to its audience, reflect the things they experience in life rather than creating this fairytale world where the princess meets the prince and they lived happily ever after.

Okay I'm really rambling here.

Lastly (I'll keep this short, I promise), I wanna give a big hug to all those who have supported me in the past 17 chaps and those who put up with my laziness. Thank you guys for taking the time to leave a review behind. It's great to receive feedbacks from readers, because they allow me to see how people perceive my story. Reviews always make my day. –hands out hearts-

**Review everyone!** And I'll shut up now before I take up another page. -SMILES-


	19. Chapter 19

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter 19**

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Sakura sat idly on her cushioned windowsill, her head tilting backward until it touched the firmness of the concrete wall. Her green eyes were set upon the distant horizon that was touched by shades of orange, red and violet hues.

Through the open window, the chilly wintry wind darted in – a ruthless, freezing touch that seeped through the thin material of her gray sweater.

The white curtains—so feather light and transparent, were sent flowing in the lucid air as if the fabric was weightless. Harsh lighting of the dusk's sun was beating all too brightly against her bleary eyes. Colors blurred, contours melt into shapeless masses that vaguely resembled the small town of Tomoeda.

All the residential houses, buildings, were bathed in the ethereal lights; their dark blue shadows haloed by luminous radiance. The beautiful dusk of Tomeoda seemed so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. She didn't remember how long it had been since she had seen dusk from her current location.

When she was young, she always rested her head on Nadeshiko's lap and watched the sun slowly disappeared down the horizon. Her eyes were always half closed lackadaisically as she gazed into the boundary of the world while feeling the gentle strokes of Nadeshiko's hand.

Her mother always ran her tapered fingers through those silken auburn strands; her ever-present loving smile in place, the lights cast a soft glow over her beautiful face. She was the one of beauty and grace.

The memory seemed so blurry and faded. It was one of those happier moments in her life when she thought the world was beautiful and perfect. But she knew, her judgment back then was too innocent and naïve. She didn't see the darker side of the world and its ugliness; she didn't see its flaws.

It was strange how happiness last only for a fleeting moment, like a snap shot of that one single frame of movement, which disappeared as soon as it surfaced. But sadness and bitterness seemed to be perpetual and pervasive, lasting for centuries long.

_If all the great things in life were to last forever, they would lose their values. The reason why they are so great is because they are ephemeral. It's just like life. If it were to be easy then life would become dull and meaningless. Believe it or not, the hardships in life are what make it beautiful._

She remembered him saying those immortal words. Those playful amber eyes showed traces of a rare seriousness and maturation, and sometimes she wondered if she really knew him. Perhaps he had a dark secret, a past that he'd rather forget, just like her.

He had so many different faces noticed. Sometimes he was the rebellious gang leader, with a devilish and teasing grin as his trademark and cracked immature jokes. Other times, when they were alone, he spoke of profound philosophical matters.

Really, she wanted to know which face represented the real him.

And perhaps none at all.

She stilled found it hard to believe when she asked him the other day at the airport to be her model for the art contest. It was just a casual question that escaped her mouth almost too carelessly. "I'm planning to paint something for an art contest. Wanna model for me?"

She was expecting a no from him. Really. He just didn't seem like the type who would model for others without asking for a big favor in return. Okay maybe she was exaggerating a little. But still, she didn't expect that yes to roll off the tip of his tongue so easily.

She thought he was just kidding when he agreed to it, but she knew she was wrong when she saw the integrity and seriousness in his cryptic golden eyes. _Sure I'll model for you_. Such an affirmative answer, but what made her heart thud frantically like never before was what he added after that. _Anything for you Sakura; anything_.

Those words produced endless echoes in her mind. Sakura writhed uncomfortably as she pushed aside those thoughts. The numbing coldness finally brought her back to reality.

Her window was still open, and a few of the fallen auburn leaves of late autumn that drifted so weightlessly through the air and carried by the careless wind, landed on her gray skirt.

She looked down at the leaves and noticed how wilted their edges were and the pattern of golden splashes dappled upon their roughened surfaces. Brushing it aside, Sakura expelled the breath that she held moments ago so unknowingly, and then inhaled deeply. The air no longer tasted minty and refreshing. It was becoming more dry and crispy--a sign of the starting of winter.

Months passed by so quickly that she almost forgot to count the days and the weeks like how she did at the asylum. Was she slowly becoming a part of this fast changing world and the moving stream of people in this town, this city? She didn't remember how or when did those changes occur. Everything just happened to rapidly.

And she had a feeling that it had something to do with him.

Suddenly, the loud roaring of the engine that sounded awfully familiar to her ears disturbed the pleasant tranquility that encompassed her moments ago. Her soft sigh resonated in the reverberant air as she lowered her gaze, only to meet the smiling young man's amber eyes.

He waved casually at her, as if there was nothing unusual about showing up unexpectedly at her door before dinner. Sometimes she wondered if he always jumped out of nowhere like that. Perhaps he simply had too much free time on his hands.

After a brief interlude of awkward silence, Sakura raised her hand uncomfortably and waved back at him in a highly stiffened manner. It felt strange, really, to notice her own little changes, of how she slowly stepped out of her shells and accepted his intrusion into her life.

She watched him, slightly perplexed by his intension until she saw him gesturing her to go downstairs. Frowning her crescent shaped eyebrows, she reluctantly got off the cushioned windowsill and headed for the exit. While she was on her way down to the front door of her house, her mind wandered away on the possibilities of the world.

Within seconds seconds, she reached the exit. When she pushed the wooden door open, that familiar handsome face which had been at the back of her mind since he took her out to see the airplanes was revealed.

He smiled, gently, warmly; he never smiled at anyone quite like that—amused, interested, challenged, surprised, teasing and always tinged with an edge of indefinable softness. His hair fell—soft feathery, golden brown—across his face, and Sakura itched to brush it back, but she turned away instead.

"Why are you here?" She demanded; the words came out a bit too cold and unfriendly than intended. She saw his smile waning just slightly in the fringes of her sight but promptly ignored it. Her eyes affixed themselves to a point across the sidewalk, evading his gaze.

Her mouth was tight, chin dipped, eyes looking at anywhere but him. She didn't know what made her so uncomfortable. Before, she avoided him because she found him annoying. But now… she avoided his eyes because she was afraid she would lose herself in them and surrender her all to him.

She couldn't allow that.

"As cold as usual eh Sakura? But my heart can take another blow."

The same gentle teasing, Sakura fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Perhaps she was really getting used to his presence. The silence stretched between them. Sakura further furrowed her eyebrows and flickered a glance at his direction. "Why are you here?" She asked again, less harsh this time but with more irritation.

Syaoran sighed at her stubbornness. "The art contest…" He trailed off, hoping it was enough to trigger her memories. He waited for a brief moment and scrutinized her face for any change in her somewhat blank expression, but gave up when he found none. "You know…the modeling thing." He forced it out as he fidgeted a little.

She really wanted him to say that embarrassing word. When he told Eriol and Hiro about the modeling thing they cracked up almost instantly, rolling on the floor with tears in their eyes. _Tears from laughing too hard._ He wanted to punch them in the face right then.

What had he done to deserve such unsupportive friends? And according to that annoying Eriol, modeling is for girls and gay guys. A dark scowl surfaced on Syaoran's face as he recalled that sadistic bastard's comment. But he shook his head slightly to push aside the thought.

"So…" he heard himself muttering, the words were easily whisked away by the careless chilly breeze.

Emerald green eyes flickered in his direction, an obvious "so _what_?" in their depths.

"Well… you need inspiration for drawing don't you? And I have a perfect place for it." Syaoran fought to put the right words together, without making his intention sound to obvious. He had never asked a girl out before, because it was always them bothering him, buzzing around him like annoying flies.

But now, it was the other way around. Some might say Syaoran was a charismatic figure, the heroic yet rebellious leader of Black Wings who battled to defy the social norms and expectations. But at this particular moment, he was just a shy, uncertain boy asking a girl to a date without actually stating it.

"But I--" Before Sakura could turn him down like she had done countless times before, Fujitaka showed up at the door, eliciting the perfect smile that reminded them of spring. "Sure Sakura will go and I brought her art kit and sketch book here just in case."

Fujitaka answered for her, a hand holding out Sakura's bag which contained everything she needed to Syaoran. He patted the stunned Sakura gently on the head, a finger brushing back the strand of auburn hair that fell into her shocked eyes.

He gave her a little push on the back to encourage her to go forward and experience what it was like to be young and step out of the shadow of her past. Her life was just beginning and she shouldn't shut herself out from the world and spiral and fall away into the void of sorrow.

Syaoran took the bag and dipped his head respectfully at Fujitaka while sending him his appreciation through a smile.

Sakura followed Syaoran down the pavement in front of their house, like the long seemingly endless road that eventually would lead them to a brighter future. Fujitaka smiled with contentment, for the first time since his divorce with Nadeshiko. He smiled wholeheartedly.

He wished he had a camera with him to capture this moment forever. Happiness is ephemeral after all, but then again, anything was possible and perchance, their happiness could last for an eternity long.

……

Sakura took off her helmet and inhaled deeply to savour the taste of the refreshing lucid air. Her eyes widened slightly in amazement and fascination as the enigmatic ocean came into view. The boundless, limitless, endless deep blue water tinged golden and orange by the dying sun of dusk took her breath away.

The cold but slightly moistened salty tasting air beat against her skin, kissing away the drops of sweat that clutched onto her forehead. Her bangs wavered in front of her eyes, back and forth, in the invisible path of the ocean breeze.

The sound of waves lapping the beach was almost soothing in the evanescing light. It was low tide, advancing so quietly toward the shoreline, and retrieving back into the depths of the waters in the same manner, leaving seashores and star fish lying in its wake.

"Come on." Syaoran murmured softly, quietly; it was barely a whisper. The sound of the waves, the flapping sound when crests of the water waves met muffled his voice. He grabbed her hand unexpectedly. The contact startled her.

He slid his fingers through hers, touch light, only fingertips brushing, and the look suspended in his amber eyes made it hard for Sakura to swallow.

Sakura could feel the fatalistic beat of her heart and the cool brush of skin against skin. Those tingling feelings sparked her nerves, making her aware of the closeness between them. His skin was cold and a bit rough, but his palm was warm despite the pervasive coldness of the season.

She felt reassured, safe. The warmth from his palm passed down to her cold, numbed ones, like the gentle breeze of spring, he was bringing light, warmth, hopes into her world of blue and gray and everlasting winter of white.

Syaoran didn't hold a prolonged touch with anyone else, never before, didn't trail his fingers upward and stroke lightly against a lightly trembling wrist, all without a single amber-eyed glance. All the uneasiness from before was gone, replaced by a mutual understanding silence between them, pleasant and comfortable.

Perhaps this was what they called young love. The feeling of being wanted, of reassurance, spread throughout his body, passed through every single blood vessel in his body, sparked every nerve on the way to his heart, and caused his heart to pound excitedly in his ribcage like never before.

"You know," he began suddenly, his voice soft and mild and soothing like the sound of the lazy wave that rolled back and forth. "I used to be alone when I was a child." His eyes were gazing into the distance as they walked along the beach, wading their feet through the pebbled sand.

Their hands were linked together with occasional feather-light contact of fingertips, yet their eyes were set on elsewhere. Sight was overrated when there was touch, when there were quite echoes of even breathings in the resonating air, when there was his unique scent filling her nostrils.

So she listened, silently, obediently. She waited for him to go on, tell the story of his childhood that she never knew of. It wasn't often for him to share something personal with her, and she felt somewhat honored to be trusted by him.

"I never knew who my father was. He left before my birth." Sakura's heart ached slightly upon hearing those words. She stole a quick glance at him from the corners of her eyes but saw his expression as calm as ever. No traces of bitterness or sadness what so ever, it was just as calm as ever as if he was narrating someone else's story.

"My mother gave birth to me, reluctantly though. But the elders encouraged her to bring me into this world even though it was shameful because the Li Clan needed an heir. My mother never married since then, and I was her only child."

Sakura remained silent; she knew he didn't need her sympathies just like she didn't want his. Pities and mindless words of comfort could only worsen the bitterness. She could feel his hand growing a little colder as they continued to saunter along the pale gray colored beach.

"She was never around. I knew she was avoiding me but I didn't know why, until an elder told me that I looked too much like my father." A hint of anger flashed in his eyes but it was gone as quickly as it surfaced as if it was never there in the first place. But Sakura caught it.

"She was an unfit mother; she hated me. She didn't give me the care that I needed, never gave me the attention that I deserved." He licked his dried lower lip and went on.

"I wasn't allowed to play with kids around my age because I was different; I had obligations that needed to be fulfilled. I was the Li heir. My future was laid out in front of me, as bright as ever. I was better than those kids', or that was what the elders aid. But I knew they were just using me as puppet. It wasn't rocket science."

"I hated the world back then. I thought it was unfair and that I was destined to be alone. Everyone stayed away from me because I was the Li Heir, until Hiro and Eriol came along." A small smile appeared on his face right then; she could see the corner of his mouth lifting just ever so slightly. The distinction was subtle, but it was there nonetheless.

"They didn't care about my status. We grew really close and when we got into high school, we started a gang and had many other followers." _Black Wings_, the name resonated in her mind as the image of those wild gang members riding on their motorcycles flashed before her eyes.

"I didn't think I could get away from my family status, from the past—my childhood. But I did." He suddenly halted into a stop and cocked his head to the right to look at Sakura. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm, moistened breath beating against her sensitive skin.

She could see all the fine details of his ethereal features, the hints of hazel and reddish brown pigments in his amber eyes, and his thick lashes. Slightly startled, she felt herself paralyzed. She could not move, or turn away from him. She was gravitated toward him, and the strength of attraction was growing stronger by the passing seconds.

"The only way to be happy and to escape the shadow of your past is to open up your heart, and stop pushing away the people who care about you." Their eyes were locked in an intensive gaze and he looked meaningfully at her as if he was trying to pass down a deeper message than that.

"The past isn't important, it is the future that you need to focus on."

Sakura's breath hitched; her heart skipped a beat. The strings and metal chains that pinned her to the wall--to the past, were slowly loosening their grips. The evanescing dying hope in her dead heart was revived.

Before, being invisible and unnoticeable to the fast changing world was her wish. She didn't want to keep up with the fast changing world. She couldn't keep up with it, because she was still dwelling on her past. But now, it was different; she wanted a change.

Syaoran saw the inner struggles reflected in her lucid green eyes and knew she got the message he was trying to pass through. It would take a while for her to decide on what she wanted and if she was willing to take life into her own hands rather than waiting for the wheel of fortune to turn over.

He had been through similar struggles, but he managed to pull it through and he knew she could too. Tightening his grip on her hand, he grinned brightly as he pulled her forward. The orangey rays of the dying sun illuminated his face, bringing out the contours of his nose, lips, and eyes.

He looked breathtakingly handsome.

His messily cut bangs, like the finest golden threads, brushed against his eyebrows and eyes as he fastened his pace. Her legs stiffly responded and picked up their speed. She knew her speed was slowing him down, but he never let go, not even once.

Their hands were still linked firmly together.

She breathed unevenly again when those amber eyes lit on her, warm and full of promise of a better future. As if the ground beneath her feet was an illusion of concrete solid, as if she was flying over a field of dreams, as if she was drifting on the white puffy clouds in the ethereal sky, at that moment, she almost thought anything was possible.

A trail of footprints was left behind in their awake, but they were washed away easily by the lazy tide which rolled back and forth over the path they traveled, as if they had never been there in the first place. The past could be easily erased like those footprints if one let go of it, after all, the future held more importance.

The past already occurred and could not be changed, but the future was still yet to be molded by hands that fought to create a better future.

Sakura's lips curved into a faint, almost ghostly smile. She titled her head and let her gaze fall upon his flawless face. There, she saw her dark angel.

It was then inspiration struck her and she knew exactly what she should paint for the art contest.

Black wings spread out as he dived into the air, through the patches of clouds that were tinged slightly orange, and toward the dying sun on the distant horizon.

The dark angel brought salvation to the lifeless world of gray and blue.

-

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a/n: oh well I actually managed to finish this chapter. It was the hardest thing to write, really. I was struggling with the flow of the story since I kind of forgot what I wrote in the previous chapters -sweatdrop-. But anyhow, I managed to find some inspiration and finished the chap. The story is coming to an end, with a few chapters to go (actually 5 more chapters). And there will be lots of actions in the next few chaps. So stay tuned everyone! Review and let me know how muchie you lub me! Buwahaha! Ahem anyhow. **Review please?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi _

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**Chapter 20 **

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She stood there and stared. She didn't recall falling; only the sensation of the world underneath her feet spinning out of control and the bright swirls of colors above her turning into a dizzying mixture of blue and orangey skies and warm amber eyes.

The other's grip on her hand was firm and the warmth that was seeping into her cold palm drove away the invasive coldness of early winter. Like the gentle caress of the spring breeze, Sakura suddenly felt the world became so much clear and beautiful.

Just then, Syaoran reached out and brushed messy locks of hair back from her face; his gentle touches felt so feather-light yet tingling at the same time. Sakura felt so mesmerized that she almost forgot that he was stepping into her personal space.

Everything around them seemed so strangely quiet and distant, and she was lulled into a light doze as his fingers tangled carelessly in her auburn hair. It still felt strange to her how she got to where she was right now -- standing by his side and holding onto his large, somewhat callused strong hand.

She had come a long way. Really.

Suddenly, she sneezed before she could hold it back and the sound echoed in the thick, but pleasant silence between them. He took off his black wings jacket and wrapped it around her petite figure. "Let's get you into something warm before you catch a cold." He murmured into her ears in his enchanting, nimble tone of voice.

"Un." She nodded obediently, feeling herself subconsciously clutching onto the soft, cashmere fabric of his white turtle-neck sweater. His smile was as warm and as loving as ever. She could see the corners of his eyes winkling a little under the ethereal lights of the dying sun.

She felt the urge to brush aside the messy bangs that were falling into his eyes, shadowing his bright amber eyes which held all the lights in the world; beautiful and ornate. Her fingers were itching for the feeling of his silken locks sliding through her fingers, her hands were shaking and her heart pounded with anticipation--

--but she held back, her gaze aslant.

She ran away from her the strange feeling stirring inside of her. Again.

"Let's go."

"Un."

She felt his grip tightened, just so ever slightly.

……

They arrived at the Li mansion moments later and it was just as grand and luxurious as she had imagined. The golden gates, glimmering brilliantly under the sun, reminded her of the gates of heaven and the magical garden behind it looked exotically beautiful, like the Garden of Eden.

Syaoran led her through the small meandering road which was seemingly disappearing down this mystical land, while she was still astonished by the place's esoteric pulchritude. They eventually reached the grand entrance of the Li Mansion and it opened automatically the moment they set their foot onto the marble staircases.

"Welcome home, Li-sama." A deep, yet aged voice filled with unspoken wisdoms rang through the speaker attached onto the center of the expensive looking door. As the door slowly opened up, a gently smiling elder man in a white suit bowed at Syaoran politely.

But Syaoran just dipped his chin slightly in return. His sharp amber eyes swept across the vastness and the emptiness of the entrance way to look for any sight of his annoying cousin. Finding none, his gaze fell upon Wei's unwavering smile and pulled Sakura in front of him.

"This is Kinomoto Sakura, my friend from school and she's here to paint today." He narrated in a lazy tone of voice, keeping its content as short and concise as possible. It sounded more like a lazy drawl instead of a supposed enthusiastic introduction.

Syaoran tried to sound as nonchalant and as bored usual, but his failed attempt only caused to widen Wei's smile.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Ms. Kinomoto. I am Wei, and you can call me whenever you need something." Wei introduced himself, bowing politely to Sakura and this startled her a little. But she returned the favor by lowering her head awkwardly. She didn't remember how long it had been since she was a guest to someone else's household.

"Master Syaoran, may I inquire which room you'd like to use for your painting sessions?"

Syaoran paused for a moment, the images of all the rooms they had in the Li Mansion flashed in his mind. As Sakura's timid form wavered on the verge of his fringes, a playful grin grew across his lips as he decided to toss the question to her. "Where would you like to paint me Sakura-chan?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively.

Sakura's eyes twitched just subtly. The change in her blank expression was almost unnoticeable to others' eyes. But nothing ever escaped Syaoran's sharp eyes.

"I don't really care, anywhere's fine." She answered mildly.

"How about the living room master Syaoran?" Wei suddenly decided to voice his opinion as well, and Syaoran almost forgot about his quiet, comfortable presence. There was a hint of amusement flashing in Wei's dark grey eyes as he watched the exchange between the two teenagers before him.

At the same time, he took the time to scrutinize the seemingly fragile girl before him. Her skin was the palest shade of porcelain, and her eyes were the rarest green color he had ever seen. One might think of her as delicate and frail, but if they looked into her solemn green eyes, they would know they have been deceived.

In the depth of green and hints of dark blue, Wei saw defiance and determination as if she was challenging destiny and fate. There was a hidden passion glinting in her eyes, frozen beneath the layers of ice. Though like a faint candle fire that seemed would go out with just a careless breeze, he knew that when that passion is unleashed someday, she would shine like the brightest star in the universe.

She reminded Wei of the Syaoran from a few years ago, tortured by his past and other unspeakable things. But Syaoran grew out of it. He stepped away from his shadowed past and moved on, and Wei knew with confidence that she'll one day look forward instead of backward, and strive down the path of life fearlessly, courageously.

And shine.

"What do you think Sakura? You're the artist here."

Lips pressed together into a thin line, Sakura took a quick glimpse at the enormous living room beside them and nodded in approval.

"Great, let's get started then." Ignoring Sakura's obvious protests, Syaoran grabbed her thin shoulder and held her in front of him before pushing her to the direction of the living room. There was an enthusiastic and gladden smile on his lips but Sakura just looked like she wanted to smack someone on the head.

……

Syaoran settled down on the couch while Sakura took a sit on the comfortable chair Wei prepared for her beside the piano. She set up her canvas and all her art equipments while Syaoran watched her.

She didn't realize how beautiful she looked when she was serious and focused.

"Okay, we can start now." Her sudden announcement snapped Syaoran out of his thoughts. He looked at her, seeking out for any kind of instructions as to how she would like him to pose for her while he took a sip of his favorite warm cappuccino with white mists swirling out of it, awakening his senses.

"You can start with taking off your sweater."

Syaoran choked on a mouthful of cappuccino. He turned a shocked glance up at her direction, but only to see her with a straight face. Was she really serious?

"O-off?" He repeated, stammering in a timid and quivering voice that sounded too foreign to be his.

"Yah." Sakura's answer was so casual as if she was just talking about the weather.

Blinking a few times, Syaoran put aside his cappuccino as his shaking, numbed fingers fumbled their way to the ends of his sweater. As he slowly pulled it over his head, a well-built and slightly tanned body was revealed to the world.

The sudden feeling of nakedness made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He wiggled in his seat a little as he debated with himself whether he should look up at her or not. Warmth crawled from the ends of his ears to his cheeks and spread out, and he was pretty sure his face resembled something close to a tomato at the moment.

Gathering up enough courage, he forced himself to look up at her direction, and there, he saw a focused Sakura, concentrating everything she had on the magical paintbrush in her hand. He had never seen her like this before. Her eyes were sharp and critical, glistening beautifully with the fires of passion burning in those lucid orbs for what she was doing.

The embarrassment in him slowly died down as he realized she was judging him as a piece of art. Fuji-sensei's soft yet abstruse philosophical words played in his mind as he observed her.

_There is something utterly elegant and beauteous about the human body. It reveals the most honest state of a person—one's natural and hidden beauty. Without the cover of clothes and bright colors of the fabrics which always try to define us, for the first time, we are seen as our true selves and for who we really are. _

She wanted him to take off his shirt to reveal the real him, unseen by the people around him. She wanted to paint him for who he was, not for what people wanted him to be perceived as. She wanted to paint him for the beautiful soul of Li Syaoran, not the heir of the Li estate, or the heroic, overly glorified leader of Black Wings.

Using her paint brush and a pair of observant eyes, sharp like lasers, like cutting diamonds, she wanted to paint him for who he was.

Feeling more relaxed and comfortable than before, Syaoran's eyes affixed themselves to a distant point where the boundary of the world laid. And smiled, alluringly.

……

Time passed by so quickly and so unknowingly like the sand slipping through an hourglass, but neither of them noticed the changes. A pleasant, soothing tranquility encompassed them. The only sound that was audible in the quiet living room was the soft rustling sounds of the tip of Sakura's paint brush against the rough surface of the canvas.

It was then Wei interrupted them, reminding them of the lateness of the hour. "Pardon my intrusion master Syaoran, but it's already seven o'clock. Would you like to have dinner right now or a bit later?"

Sakura was the first one to snap back into reality. She whipped her head to his direction and quickly glanced up at the perpetually smiling elder man, while earning herself a polite nod of acknowledgement from him.

"I should go now." She announced hastily and quietly, putting aside her brush and paint and canvas stance.

"I'll walk you home." Syaoran offered, jumping up from the comfortable couch almost immediately, but as soon as he saw Wei's smile growing larger from the verge of his fringes, he looked down and saw himself still as topless as ever. A faint pink shade surfaced on his cheeks as he hastily grabbed his sweater and pulled it over his head, messing up his chestnut hair even more.

"There's no need for that. I have somewhere I need to go first--" Before Sakura could finish her sentence, a loud bang was heard and then quickly followed by heavy stomps and soon a very furious Meiling with reddened face barged in, slamming the living room door open.

She glared at Sakura's way scornfully and turned her attention back to Syaoran, her eyes boring into his almost accusingly. "What the HELL is she doing here?" She demanded through gritted teeth, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm.

"She's my friend and I invited her over. I don't think I need to get your approval for who I want to bring into the house." Syaoran shot back, ambling over to where Sakura was and stepped out in front of her as if defending her. "Keep in mind that this is MY house and I have the right to do whatever I want in here."

Meiling wanted to retort it, but found herself unable to put the right words together. Her chest rose and fell in an unevenly pattern, her mouth tight and fists shaking with anger as she remained silent.

He was right. He was the owner of this house while she was just someone unimportant who happened to be his cousin and had no where to go because her parents died in a car accident years ago when she was only four years old.

She knew she was just reacting irrationally to Sakura's unexpected visit and she knew, anything she says right now would only work against her benefits and irritate him even more.

But she couldn't help it.

The jealousy inside of her heart took control of her mind and body and drove her away her ability to reason. She wanted to make it stop, but she couldn't. The sight of Sakura stung her eyes so much to a point that she resolved to the most childish ways of doing things.

"Don't step over the line, Meiling. There's a limit to my tolerant capacity." Syaoran declared icily, his amber eyes as cold and inexorable as ever. And Meiling heard her own heart breaking, shattering into millions of pieces.

"Come on Sakura, let's go." He grabbed Sakura's hand and dragged her along with him without sparing Meiling another look as he strode pass her. Like a careless breeze, he was gone, disappeared without a trace as if he was never here in the first place.

Meiling's legs wobbled and her hands were shaking, the handbag she was holding slipped out of her grip to drop onto the well-polished wooden floor and fell flat with a dull smack. Her vision was swimming and her eyes stung from the tears flooding her eyes.

She really loved him.

Resentment at understanding tasted bitter at the back of her mouth as she was forced to realization.

The one he loved was not her, and would never be her.

Because he loves Sakura.

……

"Sorry about that, Meiling's my cousin. She's always been like that. So don't take any of the stuff she says too personally, ne?" Syaoran scratched his head and explained, a sheepish grin tugging on his lips as he stole a quick glance at the silent Sakura walking along his side.

"It's okay." Was all she said, mildly and emotionlessly as always.

Sighing in relief silently, Syaoran's gaze stopped on her small form, a questioning tilt to his eyebrows. "So what were you saying before Meiling decided to barge into the living room?"

"I have to visit someone before I go home." She replied simply, keeping the conversation curt.

"Then I'll come with you," A pause, and he added, "if you don't mind."

Sakura halted into a stop. Her eyes traveled up to his handsome feathers and stared into his boundless, endless depths of amber. "Do whatever you want." With that being said, she picked up her pace again, leaving a cheerful Syaoran trailing behind her.

……

They ended up going to Tomoeda's General Hospital.

Syaoran was slightly puzzled at first but held back his questions as he saw the unusual solemn look on Sakura's face. They signed up for a family visit for the patient named Kinomoto Touya, and Syaoran wondered who it could be. Perhaps Sakura's grandfather? Or cousin? Or uncle? He wasn't sure.

Sakura never told him anything about her family and her past. The poem she wrote on that crumbled piece of paper did give a rather vague and ambiguous image of the events occurred in her past. But what happened to her family still remained as a mystery to him.

They stopped in front of room 305 and stood in front of the closed door. Sakura's right hand rose into the air to touch the steeled doorknob. Yet as her hand contacted the cool and smooth surface of the hard steel, she hesitated to turn it, even if it was to apply the slightest amount of force to it.

He could tell she was shaking deep down inside from the stiff and awkward movement of her hand, but he remained silent. He knew she didn't need his pities, _because she was strong._

Taking a deep breath, she allowed the restlessness to settle. Her stiffened hand slowly turned the doorknob and then pushed it forward. A small squeak was heard, pitchy but quiet. The blinding whiteness which spanned the entire room suddenly came into view.

Sakura didn't like the color of the walls. It reminded her too much of the color of death and stillness.

Her gaze wandered pass the small couch on the side, then to the pale blue walls, and finally settled down upon the bed in the center of the room, covered by a number of plain white cotton sheets. There, she saw her brother, his peaceful his face, his ghostly pale skin and his slightly bluish lips.

There were permanent grey bags under his brilliant eyes which were now closed and masked, hidden beneath the heavy eyelids that may never open again. He looked so fragile.

Her eyes softened, saddening as she surveyed his peaceful expression. It seemed as if he had fallen into a deep slumber, dreaming away about the most perfect world, where flying into the sun was possible and where wax wings never melt.

He would never be able to see the filthiness of this fabricated world ever again. She should be happy for him, in a way. But for some reasons, she really wanted to cry.

Before Syaoran could ask her who he was, Sakura came out of her solemn silence and spoke aloud, her soft voice echoing in the tranquil room and sounding exceptionally loud as every word of hers was whisked away to the corners of the room. "He's my older brother, Kinomoto Touya."

"He has been in a permanent coma for several years now ever since that car accident which he saved me from. I was young back then and because I was chasing after a squirrel across the street, I didn't see the speeding car coming at my way. And before I could get a sense of what was going on, I saw my brother lying there, still and lifeless." There was a painful and reminiscent glint in her eyes as she paused for the briefest moment to breathe, to swallow.

After an interlude of silence, she went on. "There was blood everywhere. My mother heard the loud bang and ran out of the house. She fainted as she saw my brother lying in a pool of blood. My father dialed the emergency number right away, and the paramedics took my brother away."

"But the doctors said it was already too late, his brain was so damaged that he would never wake up from this coma again." Sakura swallowed hard as she licked her dry lips. There was a lump in her throat. Her lips were quivering as she forced out the last part of her sentence with great difficulty. "He's in this coma because of me."

"Saku…ra…" Syaoran attempted to offer some word of comfort, but his voice trailed off as he realized that Sakura wasn't listening to him. She was lost in her memories—those painful memories and heavy burden that she had to carry alone for all those years.

"It's ironical to see how all the people who ever loved me and cared about me ended up so miserably. My mother committed suicide in front of me because she blamed herself for making me unhappy. She thought it was her fault that I was bullied at school because my classmates laughed at me for not having a father."

"My brother nearly died because he saved me from the speeding car. His future was so bright…but because of me, he may never wake up again. And my father, who loved me dearly and more than anything else in the world, was divorced by my mother because she blamed him for not keeping an eye on me and letting that car accident happen. She called him an unfit father."

"They gave me everything they had, yet I only brought them grief in return."

The lone statement suspended in the air between them, echoing hauntingly. The silence that filled up between them once again was heavy and full of dread. He could hear her hitched breathes, and it pained his heart to see her like that. He always thought something bad happened to her when she as young

But he didn't know it was that bad.

"People used to call me the cursed child, and I was taken to Tokyo Asylum for treatments because they said I was mentally unstable." The emphasis on the last few words was bitter, he could hear the underlying mockeries in her tone.

She suddenly swerved around and aligned their visions. His eyes widened at the suddenness of her action. "Do you still want to be friends with someone like that?" She asked him bitterly.

He fell silent, and she waited. He could see the mocking and bitter sneer forming on her face.

"Yes I do." The determined words escaped his mouth—so quiet, yet sounding exceptionally loud in her ears. Their eyes were locked in a gaze and Sakura saw nothing but integrity. He was the first person she told her story to. But she didn't know why.

She wasn't the type who would share her personal stories to the others. But she wanted to confirm something. She wanted to know if he was like the others and if he would turn his back on her because of her distorted past.

"I told you, the past isn't important, but the future is." He reached over to rest his hand on her shoulder in a gesture to comfort. The gentle touch wrapped Sakura in a strange type of calm.

Yes, she still remembered those immortal words that rekindled the fire of hope in her heart. Feeling overwhelmed, Sakura squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. Her long bangs shadowed her face, making her expression unreadable. "Turn around." The words choked in her throat and she swallowed painfully.

Syaoran was slightly puzzled by the sudden demand, but did what he was asked to anyway.

She stepped forward, closing the gape between them and slowly leaned against his back, her hands clutching onto the material of his sweater. She felt his muscles tensify but he quickly relaxed as she buried her face into his sweater and released the emotions that she had been trying to hide for all those years.

The heavy weight of the burden and guilty she carried on her shoulder was finally lifted off her, and she suddenly felt easier to breathe. He didn't mind her past, because he said it was unimportant. Her past was something that she couldn't change, but she could take the future into her hand and make it better and brighter.

She felt she could finally let go of it now.

It was the end of the dark tunnel for her where an ethereal pale light took her into its embrace.

And there, she found tears.

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a/n: next chap is the finale (will be posted next week for sure). I might come back to edit this story and re-write certain parts…someday. XD Oh, and the genre of _Black Wings_ has been changed to general/angst, because the romance in here is very mild and subtle. I'm not a fan of heavy romance.

Oh, and beware of the crazy action and tear-jerkiness of the next chapter because it will be the story's climax and happy ending. Lol XD

Remember to review!


	21. Chapter 21

**Black Wings**  
_By: Aisaki Sumi_

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**Chapter 21**

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She had never cried in front of anyone before, not even in front of the nurses who took care of her at the asylum nor had she ever showed her weaknesses in front of Tomoyo and her father. But strangely enough, she cried on his back, so uncontrollably and so helplessly, like a lost child.

She reached out for him, for a shoulder she could lean on – something which she would never allow herself do before because she always thought of herself as strong and independent. But during that fleeting moment, she broke down and wanted hold onto him for support.

She was tired and emotionally drained.

Perhaps he was right; perhaps she did need someone there by her side after all.

It had been weeks since the time she took him to visit her brother. She didn't know what she was thinking at the time. Maybe she was tired of bottling everything up inside and pretending to be normal just like everyone else – like someone who could fit in.

It was a tough decision to make. But she took a risk. She gambled with the friendship between them.

She wanted to see if everything he said was true and if he could keep his words after he found out about the haunted soul hidden beneath her innocent cover. And even if he turned away from her, at least she would know she didn't lose anything because she didn't give away her heart to him.

But she won the gamble.

He accepted her for who she was, as a whole—along with all the shattered pieces of what was left of her life and the past that shaped her the way she was. He didn't try to change her in any way, but rather, he accepted her and guided her to the doors of opportunities in life, and revealed to her the bright future ahead.

_The past isn't important, but the future is._

His inspirational words rang in her head, producing endless echoes. Every time she closed her eyes in these days, his handsome face would flash in her mind. She could see his handsome ethereal features so well.

From the delicate tilt of the corner of his lips to the perfect curve of his bright elicited smile—and that gentle smile of his was imprinted onto her mind. Like a snapshot, a frozen frame of movement in time, because she wanted to remember it forever.

He slowly made his way to her scarred heart, frozen under layers of ice. His presence changed from irritating to comforting, and she wasn't sure how to live through the days without him by her side anymore.

She got so used to him being around that it felt strange to not have him sitting next to her babbling away about the most uninteresting things on earth, such as the parties he went to and the races he won and how he nearly broke his mother's porcelain vase from T'ang dynasty.

"Sakura-chan, you seem so lost in thoughts in these days…is there something on you mind that's troubling you?" The soft, melodic soprano voice was filled with concern, snapping out of her thoughts. Sakura sighed silently and turned to her right where her childhood friend was and shook her head in reply.

"I'm fine Tomoyo-chan, really." She assured.

This week was Tomoyo's week off. She didn't have any meetings from student council or any chorus practices or any peer-tutor extra help sessions to attend. School activities seemed to have died down as exam week approached, marking the end of the first semester.

"Sorry I wasn't around much." Tomoyo lowered her head, her eyes falling into her untouched bento as she murmured the quiet apology.

"It's okay, don't worry about it." After all, because of Tomoyo's absences, she was able to get to know Syaoran better, even though at first she found him annoying. She didn't even remember why it irked her so much to see his carefree and confident grins as if the world couldn't get any better than this.

But after getting to know him a bit more, she realized that while he was everything she wasn't, their pasts were similar in certain ways. And it brought them closer together. While they occupied different ends on the spectrum, fate had its way of making two parallel lines intersect somehow.

And fate proved it by allowing Syaoran to crash into her life and to make such strong impact on it that her course of life was changed forever. Though it was unexpect, but she was glad that he entered her life. Otherwise, she would still be stuck in the same spot where she had left off, and dwell on her past.

"You know you actually started talking more and more now." Tomoyo commented, sharing her late observations with Sakura while her eyes gazed at the vast expanse of blueness that stretched out across the space above them. "Before, the most you would say was one or two words." She laughed quietly, a rueful smile on her face.

"But you're all better now." The corners of her mouth lifted as she suddenly looked at Sakura. There was evident contentment and sincerity in her ornate amethyst eyes. The glint in her orbs, like black pearls, reminded her of the brilliant stars in the sky.

"Saa." A reply full of ambiguity, offering no suggestion or opinions; Sakura leaned against the rough tree trunk, puffing white mists into the cold air.

"There were a lot of rumors around about you and Li-kun." Tomoyo suddenly took an unexpected turn in their conversation, catching Sakura off guard and her eyes widened, just very slightly. But Tomoyo didn't notice it. She shifted a little, trying to adjust her current sitting position to a better and more comfortable one.

"Were there?" Sakura inquired, sounding as nonchalant as ever, as if she was talking about someone else. But deep down inside, she wanted to know what those rumors were.

"Yah, there were. I heard it from some girls on the student council. They said you guys were really close, almost like…" Tomoyo suddenly trailed off, her already soft voice became softer and fainter, to a point that it was no louder than a bare whisper.

"Like what?" Sakura cocked her head to the right, and pressed on.

Tomoyo paused for a moment, looking contemplative, as if trying to put the right words together to form a phrase that sounded the least offensive. "Like lovers." The term came out, so quietly, yet sounding extremely loud in the presence of an oppressive silence.

The pencil Sakura was holding a moment ago dropped onto the dry, yellowish grass, looking as dehydrated and as lifeless as ever. Her hand froze in mid air as she gawked at Tomoyo, unblinking. _Lovers?_ The word resonated in her mind.

They couldn't be. She didn't love him and he didn't love her. He was a friend to her, and that was it. _Just a friend_.

But she found herself subconsciously hating that word "friend". For some unknown reasons, she wanted something more. There was something stirring in her heart—some unidentifiable emotions she had never experienced before.

"I gotta go now." Sakura got on her feet hastily. Her mind was sort of blank and her eyes were unfocused as she bent down to grab her bag striding away from the cherry blossom tree. Tomoyo tilted her head upward and watched her friend leave hurriedly in perplexity.

"Still need to go to the art studio to finish up my painting." Was the only explanation she left with Tomoyo before she rushed away; she really needed some quiet time to think certain things through and deal with the bundle of emotions that explored in her heart.

Sakura dashed for the school building, ran up the spiraling staircases and headed straight for the art studio. It was the only place she could feel comfortable in. There was something really soul-calming about it that it made her feel like she would relax her mind and contemplate.

The heel of her shoes clicked against the marble floor of the hallway. She even forgot to change her shoes when she entered the school building. The slightly darkened corridors seemed exceptionally wide to her, and she realized that it was probably due to the lack of student masses moving around the school.

During lunchtime, the school building was always empty. Most people preferred to spend their lunchtime outdoors, even though it was already mid December and even though the wintry wind was chilly. Perchance there was something refreshing and attractive about the outside air that attracted the student despite the pervasive coldness of the season.

December, the season of death and a rebirth, she thought. When December ends a new year begins, and the snow slowly melts away under the sun, marking a hopeful new beginning. And then, spring comes; the symbol of rebirth and hope.

Within minutes, she arrived at the art studio. Just when she was about to push the door open, she heard two voices resonating in the vast, spacious room and her eyes widened with shock as she realized who those voices belonged to.

"Syaoran, do you even know what everyone's saying in these days? All the rumors about you and that Kinomoto girl—do you even know that she went to Tokyo Asylum for treatment because she was insane?!"

Sakura's throat tightened as her heart skipped a beat. How did Meiling know about it? She never told anyone about it except Syaoran… unless… Her blood ran cold and her numbed fingers curled into taut fists. She could feel her nails digging into her own flesh. But the pain kept her mind clear and rational.

"Where did you get that from?!"

"I researched it! How can you hang out with someone like that? Her mother was crazy and killed herself and Kinomoto watched it happen that's why she was taken to Tokyo Asylum. She's mad Syaoran! She's dangerous!"

"What happened to her is none of your business! You shouldn't stick your nose into other people's privacy Meiling!"

Sakura's shoulders were shaking as she listened on. She wanted to block her ears and shut the angry yells out and all those hurtful truths spewing out of Meiling's mouth about the ugly secrets she fought so hard to hide. Meiling knew it…she knew it…

All those horrendous images of her mother's death, brother's accident began to play in her mind uncontrollably, like a horror film that would never end, like a nightmare that would haunt her threadbare sanity for an eternity long, except everything she saw was bloody reality.

She truly wished she could erase everything that happened in her life up to this point.

She wished her past was really an illusion that never happened. But it happened; everything Meiling said happened.

"Syaoran, listen to me, you and her would never work out. Auntie won't let some mentally insane person into the Li household! It would bring shame to the Li name! And even if she did let her in, the elders would never approve that! You're the future leader of the Li Clan; you are not just any ordinary person!"

"I don't give a DAMN about being the leader of Li Clan! I never wanted it in the first place! It's not my dream it's mother's, it's those stupid elders'!"

"If auntie finds out about this, she'll--"

"I don't care!"

"Why are you throwing everything away Syaoran?! Are you doing this because of her? Because of that crazy girl?!"

"I would do anything for her."

Sakura's breath hitched, her ears ringing, and her heart thudding wildly in her chest like an untamed beast; it was thumping with raw anticipation.

"Syao…ran…" She could hear Meiling choking on her own words.

"Because I love her."

Sakura's bag and sketchbook slipped from arms and dropped onto the floor, producing a loud thwack that shattered the ghastly silence which filled the hallway moments ago. The door slowly opened up and both Meiling and Syaoran's surprised and shocked gaze fell upon her.

When Sakura's vision aligned with Syaoran's, she felt it hard to breath. His amber eyes, no longer gentle and soothing, were burning with burning passions and promises of a brighter future. She saw a surge of emotions and feelings that she had never seen before in his eyes.

Like a tidal wave, his love came out as powerful as it was destructive.

It was all too sudden.

Sakura broke their intense eye contact and scampered away as quickly as possible without thinking, ignoring Syaoran's callings and Meiling's furious yells. Their voices sounded so distant and faint to her, blending into the background with such ease.

At this moment, the only thing she could hear was the uneven beating of her heart.

Ba-bum, Ba-bum.

But she was forced into a stop suddenly as she crashed into someone. Ignoring the pain from her now throbbing nose, her eyes traveled up from the hard chest of the person to his face, and there, she saw Kaitou and his smugly smirk.

"Ah, Kinomoto Sakura, it's a pleasure to finally have some lone time with you." He sneered.

Horror flashed in the depths of beautiful green and hints of blue, but before she could scream out for help, she felt a sharp pain shooting up from her neck and fell unconscious.

Total darkness devoured her as she fell onto the floor.

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a/n: umm, instead of the super duper long final chapter, I've divided it into two so I can update more quickly for those who are dying to see this baka story end lolz. Something came up this week and I'm not going to be around on the weekend, thus, I won't have any time to write that super long final chapter. But I still wanna give you guys something to read this week, so here it ish.

Remember to review, and I swear to god, the next chapter will be the last one.

Since this story is nearing the end, I should, might as well, give you guys the summary for Black Wing's sequel.

_Title: Fading into the Facades_

_Summary: Happiness was ephemeral; Sakura and Syaoran both died in a fatal accident before their marriage. But life was fair and they were given a second chance to fall in love again, but this time, in the 1176, Heian-Kyo of Japan._

_Sakura and Syaoran were reborn into the new world with no memories of their present life together. Sakura's sister escaped from an unwanted arranged marriage with the powerful Heike family, leaving the Kinomotos in distress. Unable to watch her father being troubled, Sakura stepped forward. "I'll be Heike no Syaoran's new bride."_

Hehe, sounds familiar everyone? Yes, it's the plot of Fading into the Facades combined with Fading Footprints and parts of Black Wings to form the sequel of Black Wings! Buwahaha, three stories into one! Man, aren't I smart! That means I'll only have to write ONE story only. –Sighs happily- It's not my fault that I'm lazy!

There will be a lot more romance in the sequel, and more action (ahem, as in war) and history. You gotta love those three in a blend. It'll be awesome! Hehe! And hopefully you guys will like it!

I didn't really wanna follow the overused plot of Syaoran losing his memories and then they re-fall in love again, or the parents against them being together blah blah sequeal thing. So there's my strange follow-up to this fic, don't worry, they'll connect somehow.

Or you can just pretend this story ended happily ever after in the next chapter and there's no sequel what so ever. XP it works.


	22. Chapter 22

**Black Wings  
**By: Aisaki Sumi

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**Chapter 22**

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"Sakura!" Syaoran called out in a desperate attempt to stop the frail figure from disappearing down the darkened hallway. The hand that he reached out as he tried to catch her was left hanging in mid air, paralyzed. She had disappeared out of his the fringes of his sight, just like that.

He failed to make her stay.

Like a butterfly alighting on a leave, no traces of impact were left behind to suggest that she was actually there in the first place. He only managed to catch a single glimpse of her horrified green eyes, and before he could get a sense of reality, she was already gone; vanished without a trace.

Perhaps he was just hallucinating.

But the footsteps were real; the loud thud caused by her falling sketchbook was real.

The sound of her shoes clicking against the cold marble floor resonated in the ghastly silence of the arts hallway, along with the frantic beats of his heart which sounded exceptionally loud in his ears. He didn't mean to blurt it out like that in a moment of heat. He didn't mean to scare her away.

He didn't mean a lot of things.

But life didn't provide him with rooms to regret.

Beside him, Meiling chattered like a broken record – the words washed through him, past him, bled into each other as they faded; around, beneath, and beyond. Syaoran blinked, once and twice. He just stood there, staring at the half-open door blankly.

He licked his dry lips subconsciously, savoring the bitterness of the orange juice's residue left behind on his lower lip – the drink he had for lunch. Meiling's voice barely brushed against his ears in timid waves as he stood still like a statue while his mind dwelled on the fact of: she left.

He felt his head swim when a rapid commotion stirred the air. Word-waves ran high, the shrill current cleansing as Meiling grabbed his hands and compelled him to look at her as if forcing him to acknowledge her existence.

_Syaoran._

He blinked to see through the blur, slowly translating the unintelligible mess back into something that resembled speech. Syaoran blinked again. Through the clashing colors of gray and blue and white, he saw something sparklingly bright in her eyes, and something infinitely sad in the depth of scarlet red.

The pressure inside his ears kept the words behind a wall of translucent ice. He wondered if she saw this; her lips moved, but he heard no sound. The red spreads, a smear across white knuckles as Meiling clenched her fists.

Just then, his cell phone rang. The cheerful ring tone shattered the deadly silence between them, and Syaoran vaguely remembered hearing something buzzing annoyingly. Shaking his head slightly, his numbed and stiff fingers fumbled their way to his pocket to pull out a vibrating phone.

One new message, the bolded letters flashed on the colored screen blindingly. Syaoran automatically pressed the read button and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the simple statement that stared back at him almost mockingly.

**If you want her, come and claim her.**

**-- Kaitou**

Underneath it was a picture of Sakura tied down to a chair with her mouth taped. Her hair was messed up, with a few strands sticking out here and there, her face had traces of dirt on it and her skin was the palest shade of white, but the defiance in her eyes was as manifest as ever.

But despite her fragile form and the situation she was in, he saw no traces of fear on her face.

_P.S.: same place as our last duel, you can only come alone. If you inform the police about this, you will never be able to see her again. _

Syaoran's grasp on the phone tightened, his nails digging into the plastic cover of the phone and leaving a few scratches behind. He turned away from the offensive looking cellphone and averted his gaze to the door again, with only one thing set on his mind.

_I have to go save her._

Determination surfaced in the pools of endless amber as if the world was just down to him and his strong desire to save the one he loved.

_Syaoran… _

The harangue from Meiling continued, and he was only able to make out a few more words – don't go. But he must. If something happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself. _I'll protect you, Sakura._ His own vow echoed in his mind, so repetitively and tauntingly like a bad song put on repeat.

_I have to go._

He shoved Meiling aside and dashed for the door. _I'll protect you Sakura, until my last breath_. He failed to see the lingering look of despair in her eyes. The eye-stingingly dusts fell from the corner of her eyes, for the first time and the very last time ever.

_Syaoran._

……

_Don't come. Don't come._ Sakura chanted in her head silently with her eyes closed. _If you come I'll never speak to you again._ She threatened childishly, as if this thought would be passed down to him somehow.

"Don't worry, he'll come alright."

She titled her head upward and glared at Kaitou's direction upon hearing those words. Furrowing her eyebrows in disgust and loath, she immediately recognized him. He was none of than the leader of Bloods, the opposition school gang at Tomoeda.

She sneered at him scornfully and looked away. But he held tightly onto her chin and forced her vision to align with his. "I don't like that look on your face missy." He said bitterly, through gritted teeth.

"Don't challenge my tolerant capacity." He warned, his nails digging into her flesh and leaving bright red marks behind on her porcelain colored skin.

Just then, a loud roar of engine was heard and she turned to the direction of where the sound came from. The roars sounded so familiar to her ears. It was him…it just had to be him…

Her heart was beating with anticipation. Caught in a dilemma, she subconsciously wanted him to come, but at the same time, she didn't want him to come.

Through the blinding rays of the sun, Sakura saw the confident face that took her breath away the first time she saw him, her black winged angel. "Let her go." He demanded, pronouncing each syllable slowly and clearly.

"And what if I don't?" A smirk tugged on Kaitou's face as he challenged.

"Then I'll make you regret this decision for the rest of your life." Syaoran menaced, his voice still as smooth and soft as ever, like silk sliding over a blade. But Sakura suddenly felt the atmosphere's temperature had just dropped by a few degrees.

"Li-kun, don't forget that your precious Kinomoto Sakura is still in my hand, and if my hand suddenly slips by accident, you'll never be able to see her again." Kaitou drawled lazily, completely ignoring the waves of promises of death advancing toward his way.

Sakura's breath itched as she felt something cold and smooth rubbing against the skin of her neck. The movement was gentle and seemed harmless, yet every single part of her body was high alert. She glanced at Syaoran's saw briefly and saw his lips suppressed into a line and his face pale white.

He was worried about her.

"Leave her out of this Kaitou. This is between you and me." Syaoran couldn't stand the dangerous silence anymore, especially the sight of a knife so close to Sakura's throat. His fists tightened until his knuckles turned white but he tried to keep a straight face.

"True, true. But she interrupted our last fight…" Kaitou trailed off, glance aslant as he scrutinized Sakura. "So she's involved, directly or indirectly, and that means I can't let her go."

Syaoran's eyes widened for the briefest moment, but he managed to conceal away his thoughts immediately, keeping his collectiveness. "What are you talking about Kaitou? How could she be involved in our last fight?"

"Don't treat me like a fool Li!" Kaitou spat out, eyes narrowed dangerously as he pulled out a sketchbook out of his jacket. "I went back afterwards and found this near the dumpster. Now explain to me how this sketchbook with the name Kinomoto Sakura got there?"

There was an interlude of silence and Syaoran knew there was no point of pretending Sakura wasn't involved. Gnawing at the corner of his lips, Syaoran took a quick glance at Sakura from the corner of his eyes and slowly ambled toward them.

"It's me that you wanted. Let her go and I'll stay here."

Sakura's eyes widened in shock as she gawked at him in disbelief, but he cleverly avoided her gaze. "How's that?" He pressed on, bright amber eyes boring into the black orbs that were like the bottomless abyss.

The corner of Kaitou's mouth lifted as a satisfied and slightly amused grin formed on his face. "Let's make this a bit more interesting then shall we? If you can take 10 bunches from each member from Bloods, and still be able to stand still, I'll let both of you go."

"Mmmmff! (NO!)" Sakura cried out, protesting loudly and struggling to break free from ropes that bound her to the chair she was sitting on. The roughness of the rope cut through her delicate skin; the smear of red stained her porcelain colored skin.

But Syaoran ignored her protests. "Deal."

Horror, despair, impotence and franticness flashed in those depths of green. But there wasn't anything she could do, other than to watch. Syaoran stood in the center, surrounded by smirking members of Bloods. His hands were tied together to prevent him from fighting back.

"Let the fun begin!" Kaitou raised his hands into the air and clapped loudly to signal them to start.

Nooo!! Sakura screamed on the top of her lungs as she watched Syaoran being cornered in the middle by eight guys. One by one, they bunched him as hard as they could. Blood started to trickle down the corner of his lips, and his handsome face was covered by bruises. But he refused to fall on his knees and make a sound.

Tears of anger and frustration swelled up in her eyes, blurring her vision to a point that all she could see were clashing red and black colors. The sight of such bright contrast stung her eyes. He was taking all that because of her. He came here even though he knew he could get hurt. But he came anyway, because of her.

Every single punch he took felt like a stab in her heart. She bit her lower lip so hard that she could taste her own warm blood gushing out of the wound. But the pain was nothing comparing to the pain inside of her chest.

_Syaoran… Syaoran… _she called out his name repetitively as she writhed in her seat, trying to get the rope off her. The pain on her arms and legs felt numb to her. At that moment, she just wanted to help him.

_Syaoran…Syaoran…_she chanted his name in her heart for god knows how long. _Syaoran…_

Suddenly, the bunching sounds died down and Sakura froze on the spot. She slowly looked up and saw Syaoran wobbling slightly. His face was covered in blood and his hands were still bound together by the same rope that was used to tie her down.

"10… bunches…from…e-each…" He whispered weakly, struggling hard to maintain his balance. "Now…let…Sakura…go…" He gazed at Kaitou who was so stunned that it seemed like he had just seen a ghost.

"Un-untie the girl." Kaitou ordered, stammering a little unblinkingly as he continued to gawk at Syaoran in disbelief. How could he still stand there like that after being beaten so badly?

Once Sakura felt the rope loosen up, she quickly freed herself and ripped the tape of her mouth with little care. Dragging her numbed and limp legs, she rushed toward him and caught him in her arms before he fell to the ground.

Crystal tears sparkled in her large emerald green eyes as she wrapped her left around him, resting his head on her chest. Her other free hand ripped a piece of white cloth off her school shirt and used it to wipe the blood off his cheeks and the areas around his eyes.

"Baka…baka…why did you come…" Her voice was coarse and broken as she questioned him. Her hot tears splashed onto his face, washing away the eye-stinging redness. She just couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks.

"Because…I said… I would always…protect you…no matter what…" He smiled, so-ever-comfortingly, like the spring, before he closed his eyes.

_I'll protect you, Sakura._

He kept his promise.

But it was one promise that she didn't want him to keep.

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**a.n:** I am BEYOND sorry about this short chap. I really wanted to get the ending up this weekend, but I couldn't, because I have SOO many things to do before the x-mas holidays and it's driving me nuts! Ugh! Jammed week before x-mas!

GOMEN GOMEN!! This is only part 1 of the ending! I'll post the second part on Thursday night! –runs away before she gets killed off by angry readers-

Really, really, sorry about this.


	23. The Finale

**Black Wings  
**_By: Aisaki Sumi_

a/n: blame Christina Aguilera's song, _Hurt_, for the tear jerkiness in this chapter. Oh, and forget about the sequel, I'm too lazy to continue on this story. Ahem, so let's just leave that story plot for another day XD.

And one last comment on the subtleness of the romance in this story. A romance story doesn't really have to have a lot of kissing scenes, or a lot of "I love you" scenes. Sometimes, a simple gesture is good enough to show one's love for another.

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**Chapter 22 (part 2) **

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Everything happened to quickly, almost like a blur.

Staring blankly at the floor and the tips of her dirtied shoes as if she was trying to burn a hole through the thick marble floor, Sakura stared and stared, unblinkingly, while recollecting and comtemplating.

Quiet and pleasant moments of which they spent together flashed in her mind continously, repetitively, every single smile of his, every single uninteresting joke of his – all remained so crystal clear in her head.

She remembered them. Perhaps a bit all too well. She didn't realize how much she kept notice of these trivial things that he did for her. But what exactly was he to her? She didn't know; she didn't want to know. But she knew, avoiding that question wasn't going to get her anywhere.

A friend? Not really, he was more like someone who annoyed her neverendingly.

A classmate? Not quite exactly, since she never paid any attention to her classmates. Heck, she didn't even remember the name of the girl who sat beside her through most of her classes. Yet she managed to remember him, everything he said, everything he did, all so clearly. Why, why, why?

_He's hurt because of you._

Those hurtful words of a deep hatred resonated in her ears, ringing cruelly, tauntingly. She wanted to block it out, but she knew she couldn't, because it was true. Every single word of it was true. And she wouldn't deny it.

Sakura cringed a little.

Her right cheek was still burning, hurting, reminding her of all the things she made him go through. That slap across her face awoke her from her fantasies of somehow everything would be alright again. She remembered looking up and aligning her vision with Meiling's tearful eyes blazing with a deep passionate resentiment.

And behind Meiling, she recalled the saddened look in Eriol's eyes, the fuming and reddened face of Hiro's and the rest of the Black Wings members, the promise of protection in Tomoyo's worried amethyst orbs.

She realized why they were so angry with her when she saw his face, as white as the snow and as colorless as water. That description was never meant to be used to describe him, the star of the night, the legendary figure that everyone idolized at Tomoeda Heights.

He as supposed to be bright, like the distant Northern Star. But not like this.

Her heart stopped pounding, just for that one brief moment.

She felt her own blood running cold. She had never been so scared in her life, not even when her mother died and when her brother fell lifelessly onto the ground. But she was scared of him leaving her, of sitting in the large echoing art room all by herself, of eating lunch under that beautiful cherry blossom tree in solitude.

She was scared of walking down the road of life without him by her side.

The thought even shocked her and at this moment, she realized how much he meant to her. He wasn't just a friend, or a classmate, or someone she could depend on, but he was her dark angel—the one who brought sunlight, hopes, and salvation to her hopeless world of blue and gray.

He was her angel with black wings—the one who she subconciously gave her heart to.

But it was too late now.

Sakura stood there, still, like a statue, while the others followed the nurse's trail and headed for the room where Syaoran would be staying for god knew how long. Tomoyo patted her gently on the shoulder and walked away understandingly because she knew Sakura needed sometimes alone to deal with the mess.

Sakura watched their figures becoming smaller and smaller and unclear as they sauntered down the hallway—until they became smudges of colors that clashed together. Sakura blinked, and felt something warm rolling down her cheeks.

It slid pass the corner of her lips and seeped through the little gap between her upper lip and lower lip, leaving a bitter and salty taste behind. Sakura knew that taste, flavored bitter at understanding. Usually, she would force those tears to stay in her eyelids.

But not this time.

Not at this moment.

She allowed the crystal clear droplets, sparkling like newly cut diamonds, to fall freely from the corner of her eyes.

He said it was okay to cry. He said tear wasn't a sign of weakness, but a sign that shows you have a heart. He said it was okay; it was okay.

……

Sakura headed straight for home. She kicked off her shoes, threw her winter coat onto the couch carelessly and dashed for her room. Louds thwacks were created as she ran the upstairs to her room. Breathing heavily and unevenly as she halted into a stop when she arrived in front of the canvas; the painting was almost done.

Panting breathlessly, she reached out a hand -- a delicate finger – to trace the contour of the dark angel's face. A hint of nostalgia glinting in the depth of green as she remembered the day when he took her out to the beach and how he held onto her hand tightly and let never go of it, not even she was slowing him down.

She remembered the footprints trail left behind on the sand in their awake. She missed his warmth, his gentleness, his uninteresting jokes, his bright smiles, his deep rumbling voice.

Sitting down on the chair beside her and picking up her paintbrush, she dipped its tip into the dried paint on her color-mixing board. Slowly, the dried paint melted and seeped into the paintbrush's head.

She lifted it up and brought it close to the canvas and gently pressed it against the canvas' rough surface. She painted and painted, adding life to his face, his eyes, and capturing every single etheral features of his onto her canvas.

The corner of her lips lifted upward slightly as her focused emerald green eyes on trained onto the canvas before her. The image of his smile remained fresh and clear in her mind and it had ever been this manifest before. Drawing down the details, the proper shadding, she painted and painted—

-- until it was completed.

……

It was silent and white everywhere. Sakura tiptoed across the room as quietly as possible. She sat down on the edge of his bed and scrutinized him, as if trying to memorize every detail of his handsome features forever.

Her fingers were numbed from the coldness from the outside and were red from the harsh wintry wind that struck her delicate skin like a thousand needles. She reached out shakily to brush aside the bangs that were falling into his eyes.

Her expression softened. He looked so peaceful like that. Thick eyelashes as dark as charcoals left featherlight touches on his pale skin, what a brilliant contrast, she noted. Her hand froze in mid-air, the tip of her finger still touching his soft and ruffled chestnut hair.

She couldn't pull away. And before she knew what she was doing, the tip of her forefinger trailed down his face, from the corner of his closed eyes to the shadows underneath them, outlined the structure of his nose and the shape of his dried, cracked lips.

He was still the same person as she remembered, yet at the same time; he was different. He was lying still and lifeless, like a statue. The Syaoran in her memories was never like that. It ached her heart to know that she was the reason behind his sufferings.

She brought it upon him. The thought ripped her heart apart.

There was a eerie silence before her quiet appology, "Gomen ne…" She rested her hand on his unmoving one, feeling the callus on his large palm and the tips of his fingers. His hands were slightly warm, just slightly.

"You said everyone needed a companion on the road of life." Her voice was shaky and on the verge of breaking. She paused suddenly, and seemed to ponder here.

"But perhaps, some people were just meant to be alone."

_Perhaps some people were never meant to be born because their existence would only bring pain to the ones who loved them._

She wanted to add it but felt her tongue tangled up and a lump in her throat that prevented her from making any sounds. And then, she smiled. Her smile was forced, her smile was sad, her smile was concerned yet flawless, her smile was hurt.

Sakura reached out for her bag on the floor with her other free hand and pulled out the finished painting that she was supposed to enter the competition with, entitled "Black Wings". The name wasn't anything eloquent, or luxuriant, nor was it chivalrous. It was just laconic and recondite.

It was like him, simple yet complex, typical yet unpredictable, wild yet elegant. Everything about him was contradictive. Sometimes, she really wanted to smack him for the way he was, yet other times, she had to fight off the urge to lean on him for support.

He was red and she was blue, the special bond they shared between them was yellow, and together, they make all the colors in the world.

Their future together seemed so brilliant and beautiful. Yet, she wasn't sure it she really could be a part of it.

Placing the painting carefully on his nightstand, Sakura directed her gaze at him, studying him for one last time before she walks out of his life forever and ever.

_The future painted by your words is beautiful, but I'm not sure if I am meant to be in it._

She broke off her lingering gaze and looked away and got up before she lost control over her emotions. Just when she was about to make a run, she felt something holding onto her small wrist, something strong and warm and familiar.

She turned her head, looked over her shoulder and was stunned by what she saw. Syaoran struggled to sit up right while his other arm still had thick bandages wrapped around it, but his hand firmly clutched onto hers as if she would disappear into thin air if he let go.

Chivalrous amber eyes bored into watery emeralds, his lips moved, opening and closing slowly as if chanting a spell that unlocked all the emotions in her. "You're not one of those people who were meant to be left alone, because you've got me and I've got you."

The last thing she could recollect from that day was running into his arms and letting out everything she bottled inside of her for all those years.

He said it was okay to cry; he said he was there.

……

A bouquet of white roses rested peacefully on the pile of freshly fallen snow. It had been weeks since Syaoran's recovery and it was just a day away from Christmas, a holiday that Sakura had almost forgotten about.

But she was going to celebrate it this time, with the people who loved her and care about her, but most importantly of all, she was going to spend it with him.

Two hands locked together in a tight grasp and the stretchy lines drawn by their long shadows cast upon the overwhelming whiteness, one of them was tall and strong and the other was short and fragile. But together they were a perfect match.

"Okaa-chan," Sakura spoke softly, her eyes setting upon the grave stone in front of her. She had never visited her mother's grave before, because she simply couldn't bring herself up to do so.

When Nadeshiko died, Sakura was sent away to the asylum while cinerary casket was sent back to Tomoeda, where her father, for proper burial.

This was her first time visiting her mother, and perhaps the last time. Her painting of Syaoran won first place in the National Art Competition held by University of Tokyo and she was granted a full scholarship to study in its General Arts faculty in the upcoming year.

Syaoran still needed to write his entrance exam in the beginning of February, but she knew he would do just fine, and together, they would move to Tokyo and start a new life there. But this time, it would be different, and she was quite certain of that.

"I'll be fine, Okaasan, and thanks for watching over me." _And thanks for bringing me the dark angel. _

Sakura looked up at the smiling Syaoran by her side, and her eyes twinkled in joy as she saw the black wings spreading out on his back. Under the ethereal shower of white lights, she recollected all those events that happened so unpredictably that brought them together.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just a coincident.

But it wasn't important now.

_I'm glad I found you, Syaoran._

……

Standing still on the little hill that was a hundred meters away from Tomoeda Cemetery, Meiling brushed aside the long charcoal colored hair that was getting in her way. Her lips curved slightly, producing a sad yet flawless smile.

_As long as Syaoran was happy, she was happy._

Hugging herself a little, Meiling shuddered slightly at the chilly wintry wind that was cutting through the thin material of her school uniform mercilessly. Tears were filling in her eyes but she fought them back bravely because she promised herself she would never cry again.

Just when her body was about to turn numb, she felt something warm wrapped around her as if she was a delicate baby. Like a shelter in the storm, it offered her warmth and protection. Looking over her shoulder to see whose jacket it was, she saw Hiro scratching his head and grinning at her sheepishly.

The wind was tossing his ink colored hair into the air carelessly. And for a moment, under the overlapping golden lights, she saw a pair of large black wings on his back that acted like a shield, blocking away the wind, the snow—everything.

As if the world was just down to the two of them, Meiling blinked and smiled.

……

Somewhere hiding behind the bushes that surrounded the cemetery, Tomoyo shivered and sneezed. Her teeth were shuddering from the cold but she refused to go back inside the car with Eriol – that loud mouth and constantly smiling bastard who was really a devil in an angel's disguise.

"Achouuuu!" She sneezed again. Frowning deeply, she cursed the cold weather and stomped her feet against the snowy ground.

Arms encircled her thin waist and she felt her back leaning against a hard warm chest. Amethyst eyes widening scandalously, and just when Tomoyo was about to turn around and smack him, she saw his eyes closed and his chin resting on her shoulder.

Her eyes softened and all the fumes that were threatening to spill out of her a moment ago died down. She didn't know why she didn't scream or yell or slap his hands off her. Perhaps it was because of that innocent, almost childish look on his face. Or maybe it was because of the coldness of the season.

But the reason held no importance now.

She relaxed her tense muscles and enjoyed his warm company just for this moment.

There were black feathers floating weightlessly in the air, and some drifted and landed onto the fluffy white snow. The contrast of ink black and cashmere white was elegant and breathtakingly beautiful.

Tomoyo rubbed her already sore eyes, irritated by the chilly wind, to make sure she wasn't seeing things. But when she reopened her eyes again, they were still there. Shocked, Tomoyo grabbed onto Eriol's hand and just when she was about to tap him on the shoulder, she was struck speechless by what came into view.

She saw a pair of black wings on his back.

……

The legend said that "when the world was reaching its end, when the ground was tumbling down, when all hopes were lost, an angel with black wings would descend from the sky and bring salvation to the vanishing world filled with despair."

But there's more than just one angel with black wings out in this world.

Have you found yours yet?

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**THE END (yesh, as in, the story is done and you don't ever have to yell at Aisaki for being a lazy updater again)**

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A/N: omg, it ended! I should seriously throw myself a party for finishing my first multi-chaptered fanfic ever!! XD lolz! Yesh, now you can see how much of a lazyass I am. Sorry about the delayed update. I had a major writer's block this week and it almost killed me and today I finally found my inspiration again, thus, the update of this fic! Hehe. I'm working on Totally Confidential right now, and I'm really hoping to get it up tonight…if I didn't, then I probably ran into some sort of deadlock again. -Sweatdrop-

I changed my plans for this chapter suddenly when I was 1/3 way through it. Originally, I wanted to have Sakura visiting Syaoran scene in the hospital and giving him her painting and leaving right after that. And then have Syaoran panick when he reads the letter she left for him, and run around Tomoeda looking for her. But then I was like nahhhhh! That's too teenage-drama-ish which lacks a deeper meaning to it.

So, I changed it with Syaoran waking up just when Sakura's about to take off, and the little scene with Sakura visiting her mother with Syaoran by her side, and the little scenes with the other two couples to show that Syaoran really isn't THEEEEEE dark angel, but rather, there're more than just one dark angel out here.

I hope most of you got it by now that the black wings Sakura saw on Syaoran's back were more of a metaphorical thing than actual wings. Ahem. XD

One more thing before I go, notice that I didn't have any confession scenes in this story, like at all? Well, it was intentional, and not because I didn't know where to squeeze it in. I find that kinda cheesy…even though I used to write those kinda things when I was younger…-cough-. I mean, if they love each other, wouldn't declarations of love be kinda pointless then? After all, actions speak louder than words, and I think Sakura and Syaoran have showed each other that they love each other.

I know I focused on this story a lot this year, but that's because I wanted to get it done and out of the way so I never have to think about this crappy thing ever again. XD Now, I am going to focus mainly on Totally Confidential and get that thing out of my hair before I move on with anything else. So I'm sorry everyone if you want my other stories to be updated!

-runs away before she gets killed off by rotten tomatoes-

**MERRY BELATED XMAS AND HAPPY EARLY NEW YEAR XD (gosh, I'm so lame.)**

**ONE MORE IMPORTANT THING BEFORE I GO. Fanfic net is really messed up in these days, so for those of you who have me on update alerts, you won't be receiving any of those update alerts because the alert thing is really messed up. So, if you want to be notified ASAP when I update something, please sign up on my NotifyList. The URL is available on my profile page. :D stay safe during da holidays everyone! Lotsa luff from Aisaki Sumi X3**


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